Lord Durin had received the elderly Forest Master of the Kuni early in the morning.
Following Lord Durin, he came to the training ground where the young rabbitlings had already taken their positions, dressed in uniform training gear, each with a uniform tag on their left ear.
Looking at the young ones before him, the old Forest Master of the Kuni was barely able to recognize them.
Indeed, when the Forest Master had sent them off, their faces bore the innocence of youth, their arms and legs tender and soft.
Now, the faces of these hundred or so Kuni rabbitlings bore scars, their gazes were cold, muscles bulged under their tight tank tops, each one seemingly taller.
Are these really his soldiers? The Forest Master's face was full of question marks.
"Forest Master, what do you think?" asked Lord Durin, snapping the old Kuni out of his reverie; he nodded repeatedly.
Soldiers like these had never been seen in the history of the Kuni.
"Then take them back," Lord Durin said.
