It’s quiet…too quiet…the fields of war silently show their gleam of light. The pond stirs silently as the clouds of anguish and torment shadow these dark plains. Not a sound from crickets or the trees rustling by this pond. Suddenly, a head pops up from a field of grass by the pond…but it is no human nor intelligent lifeform’s head…it is no other then Donald Duck. He is wearing an army helmet with camoflauge paint around his face…his eyes shift from left to right, trying to spot an unseen enemy. His eyes widen as a loud bang is heard and he quickly ducks back down and rolls out of the way as an anvil drops to the place he had stuck his head out. From a distance a faint chukle can be heard…The chuckle is low and nearly inaudible…if you ignore the loud “quacks” between the laughter. The laughter and quacking comes from that of Daffy Duck, crouching down in military camoflauge uniform by a tree. His loud quacking and laughter does not go unnoticed…for another lifeform exists out there in the wild. Not a donkey or a platypus or a duck…wait it is a duck. Well, anyways this duck spots the enemy Daffy chuckling by the tree and smirks evily. The enemy has been spotted. He crawls through the brush and silently apporaches his enemy. Daffy, oblivious to Dacky’s existence, trys to spot Donald who has seemingly disappeared. He pops his head up only to realize that some sort of hot air is breathing upon the back of his neck. No, it wasn’t that of the wind or of a tree leaf dancing on his neck. As he fell deep into thought, his eyes shoot up. He knew who it was and slowly turned, facing his enemy Dacky, who is smirking evilly. The silence is broken by a loud quack, but it quickly comes back. Donald, aroused by the quack, slowly pops his head up, looking in the general direction. All he can see is the grass moving, as if something had been there…something…or someone…He slowly lowers his head and crawls through the brush…his eyes are focused on the grass that lay ahead as suddenly ,the grass stops and he sees an opening. And there, lying in the opening, lay a black figure. He lay unconscious, maybe for a short period of time or maybe for a lifetime, but Donald didn’t have time to find out. He quickly crawled over the figure and laid back against the tree trying to figure out who or what could have done this. Suddenly a sound is heard not to far off and Donald looks in the direction. He smirks and slowly crawls over to where the sound was heard. He comes to another opening, slowly peeking around. The sound was that of something hitting wood, and he saw a log near by. He walked over the muddy, soft ground as he came about a log. There was no sign of footprints or anything unusual. He moved closer and his hand encountered a rock. He picked it up and looked in terror. These grounds were muddy and did not contain rocks, and he knew what happened. He knew that the unseen enemy had thrown this rock to distract him. He knew that he had been played all along. So slowly, he turned around, and saw the figure right behind him. He sighed and accepted his fate, as darkness fell upon him in a flash.