Yuki couldn’t do it. The burrow entrance was there, just a few paces away, but she couldn’t do it. She stood stock still, frozen and terrified. A few seconds ago, she was over the moon, bouncing, jumping, and pushing Mom to open the burrow faster. Mom was taking forever to dig open the entrance.

First came the new scents: the earthy smell of damp soil, the musky aroma of decaying leaves, the sweet fragrance of flowers in bloom, a strange and faint lemony smell, and the acrid odor of animal shit. Then there was the light. Oh, the freaking light! Yuki never thought about it during those past four weeks. Deep down into the bowels of the world, how had she seen things?

Yuki’s ears were flat against her head. Her legs wouldn’t support her weight. She lay still, unmoving, hoping the world wouldn’t notice her there. Why was this happening? Yuki was never one to be afraid. On the before, she all but waged a clandestine campaign against interdimensional killers.

No, that wouldn’t do. Enough was enough. Yuki got up and took deep, frantic breaths, then a step forward.

From the burrow’s entrance, Mom thumped, impatient.

Yuki jolted at the sound; a few drops leaked. But she wouldn’t be denied. What was a vast, new, wild, and possibly dangerous above world? It was nothing! She dealt with worse in the before, like that flying cockroach one time. No, Yuki could and would do it!

In her mind, she saw a handsome, rugged man with short, curly dark hair and a braid on one side, wearing the iconic black crew-neck T-shirt and dark pants in front of a green screen. Both his hands were open, almost touching. She could even hear his voice: “What are you waiting for? Just do it! Yes, you can! Just. Do. It!”

Yuki did it. She took one step, then a hop, and finally a dash. The world opened in front of her eyes.

The wide-open blue sky she had anticipated wasn’t there. The sky was dark and purple. The stars were different, closer, and more vibrant. Her eyes trailed down. In the distance, the silhouette of mountains was almost hidden behind the trees. The clearing she bounded into was surrounded by gnarled, contorted trees, like the worst nightmares of a demented mind. Bushes and shrubs that were more trap than flora.

Yuki stopped in her tracks. She wasn’t the only one. All her siblings, now finally out of the burrow, huddled with her, their ears swiveling in all directions. Each slight insect buzzes enough to send the whole gang into a flash freeze.

But as the milliseconds passed, old instincts took over. Yuki was no wild feral bunny scared of every hum and chirp. She would master the body, not the other way around. She wanted to quote that famous fear mantra from that renowned book series but decided it was too much cheese.

In the clearing, she saw more of her kin. The neighbors from the next corridor chamber in the borrow were also out. The group, eight of them, all looked condescendingly at Yuki’s fear. They didn’t even bother to turn their ears Yuki’s way, so much was their derision. A range of adult rabbits stood in the outer perimeters, eyes on the horizon, ears perked up and at attention.

More details filtered in: rabbits grazing in the nearby shrub, others hidden beneath leaves, and kits racing and exploring. There was no need to worry or fear.

The distant cry of some bird of prey sent the whole clearing to the ground. The young froze while the adults perked up. Then, moments later, the relaxing thumping from one of the sentries calmed down the colony.

Yeah, everything was fine. There was no danger!

There was nothing better than the taste of freedom. Yuki enjoyed her best life with no bullies or vixens to distract her. She nosed and dug. She had found these yummy orange mushrooms beneath a pile of decomposing leaves. It was her new favorite food; she lost count of how many she’d eaten. It dissolved in her mouth and sent tingling into her head.

The world was lit with music and lights. She laughed, standing on her hind legs, paws at her waist. She was on top of the world- not even Bunbun fluff compared.

“All of you mortals bow before me!” She cackled.

The peasants basked in her glory, their noses twitching in adoration, ears perked in reverence. She was the queen of her domain, and not even Mom could convince Yuki otherwise. Even the stars paid obeisance; their light cast an ethereal glow into the clearing. The trees ungnarled themselves and knelt. The bushes and shrubs danced. The insects and birds paraded for her glory. Lemon cake was served to all her subjects. It was perfect.

Exp: +1.

Yuki steered clear of the tasty mushrooms. It gave her strange ideas. In her heightened state of being, she realized that casting spells might not be out of the picture entirely. Sure, she would have trouble with the hand-waving and chanting, but she had an inkling that what really mattered there was the intent behind the spell being cast.

She eyed Bunbun, waltzing in the clearing, batting her eyelashes at everyone. Yuki would need a bit of blood, and the spell might not even work, but… If she could. Imagine the possibilities. If she [Dominated] Bunbun, Yuki could claim the fluff all for herself.

No! Yuki would not give in. No matter how amazing Bunbun’s fur was. The spell was too much. Could she make Bunbun her familiar, then? Was that a form of nepotism? Yuki had much to ponder.

She smelled the air. There it was again, that lemony scent. It was stronger today. Yuki followed her nose, but the smell led away from the clearing guarded by the adults. She wasn’t dumb enough to follow strange scents into unknown and unguarded territory. Yuki shrugged and went back to her pondering. To [Dominate] or not to [Dominate]? It was such a difficult question.

Exp: +1.

Something wasn’t right. Yuki felt it in her ears.

The clicks huddled together. The adults were skittish and irritable. The wind was ominous, and the shadows darker. A warm nose pressed against Yuki’s cheek. Bunbun’s big, expressive eyes looked at Yuki. The bigger rabbit carried a piece of grass in her mouth, whiskers twitching in concern.

“So cute!” Yuki squealed. She couldn’t handle it. Bunbun was the best. Ignoring the assumed offering, she tackled her favorite sister in a hug. Bunbun didn’t budge. She was enormous. Yuki decided to make Bunbun her familiar. The vixen was just too cute to resist. Magical nepotism be dammed. Yuki needed it.

A branch snapped nearby, and the whole colony of rabbits froze. Yuki turned toward the sound, ears perked. A gnarled tree. A trap-shrub. A broken branch near the leaves on the ground. The lemony smell spiked, and for a moment, Yuki swore some leaves moved by themselves.

Yuki shook her head. Her heart thumped so hard; it affected her mind. She still hadn’t got the hang of all these rabbits’ instincts. She was afraid all the time. Then, the thumping started. It was the first time Yuki ever heard it so frantic and urgent, but she knew what it meant: danger. Yuki whipped her head around. She and Bunbun were at the far end of the clearing; the nearest entrance to the burrow was close to where she saw the leaves moving.

Then, one of the sentries bolted, and the colony descended into chaos. Bunbun didn’t wait. She leaped toward the nearest entrance.

“Bunbun, no!” Yuki screamed, which only made the other rabbit run even faster.

Like those sci-fi camouflages in games, the air shimmered, and where once was empty, now a ginormous leopard-like cat with emerald eyes stood. Six long dark green serpents sprouted from its shoulders. Each serpent was over ten times Captain Nutjob in length. The serpents lashed at the fleeing rabbit. Bunbun jumped away, but not fast or far enough.

Like a circus choreography, the serpent latched into the rabbit and threw Bunbun up in an arc toward the main body. The rabbit screeched and contorted, but not for long. With a step forward from the monster and a heavy clack, half of Bunbun’s body disappeared inside the maw.

Yuki didn’t stay to see what else would happen. She bolted in the opposite direction, to the burrow entrance further away from the beast.

FatElf

Forgot to post it last time, but here my image reference for Yuki.