Up on the mountain high above, there bounced a pair of bunnies white. They were doing something you weren’t thinking of, causing the snow drift to suddenly take flight. Innocent as they are their intentions were bad, and the avalanche formed unyielding. As it roared down the slope they both seemed glad, and townsfolk had no shielding. And that is the story of the little mountain town, there was nothing to safe the people. It was buried that day and became the ground, the only thing left, the steeple.


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