5:17

The beaver awoke in a box. It was dark, damp and bouncing up and down. It was obvious he was in some sort of vehicle. He tried turning around but something was on his tail. Peering over his shoulder he realized it was that interfering rabbit. Anger momentarily rose up: if it hadn’t been for the rabbit’s stupid intrusion into my affairs I’d not been this stupid box, he growled to himself. Gah.

With Edward still unconscious on his tail it was hard to tell how much room was left in their little wooden crate, but with a little effort he succeeded in pushing the limp rabbit off his tail and managed to turn around. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through cracks in the wood, he saw that he and the rabbit were in a long, low wooden box about a metre long, but not tall enough for him to stand properly.

The beaver pushed again and settled Edward in the far corner so that the beaver could move around without interference. Now, just where the hell am I? he thought. And for that matter, where the hell are we going?

“And who the hell did this?” he asked the pile of rabbit fur in the corner rhetorically.

“I believe her name is Caroline,” the pile replied quietly.