Run, Rabbit
Happy holidays to all! I come bearing gifts… The FINAL part to my bunny!reader fic series. I hope you enjoy
Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3 (you’re here!)
cw: minor body horror (?)
The more feral part of you is thrown off.
Naturally, because rabbits aren’t exactly known for a vibrant pink coat. In fact, such a mutation screamed of sickness, of a poor ability to hide, of a bad diet. Clearly such an individual would only bring you the extra attention that leads to getting caught in-
Ohmygoddessesitsmovingtowardsyou
Tentatively, your company shuffles to your side. He’s smaller than you, reaching half your length and to your shoulder in height. He looks at you only tentatively, sparing side glances from his bowed head, declaring himself as not a threat.
You both stand in the cracked riverbed, pretending that he isn't shuffling closer. The night’s chill had now dissipated. The sun, its light, its heat, covered more now. And the latter it brought would soon prove problematic as well. Animals, predators, people, would seek the bank. Dry as it was, the dampened clay and crawling arms of water would provide enough respite to draw them from the treeline. And once they would, it's certain you could be their next pursuit.
Something presses against your hind legs.
You spring, before you can calm yourself to even look, dashing on the dry tiles along the river, for where the river once ate away at the dirt, now leaving an uneven wall you had to climb so that you might escape your pursuer
“Ohhkay, angel. Just calm down” A familiar disgruntled voice sighs from behind you. Familiarly bitter, but more of a comfort than any sweet cooing could ever be. You relent on your struggle to climb, scraping on your way back to the crackled bed. Just to be sure of your safety, you circle him a handful of times, for good measure. He makes no move to follow, content to let you observe as you please. Eventually, though, you stop.
Legend saddles up beside you again, content to flop against you.
“Better?” He nudges again, his own furred ruffling yours.
“What- how- I-” You try several questions. What he’s doing here. How he got here. Did he get attacked again from that wizzrobe? What are you even going to d-
“One thing at a time,” He eases, continuing to nuzzle his head against your side. The pressure is enough to distract you from the many spiraling questions. “The more you worry, the easier it’ll be to set you off. The less control you have” And you focus in on his voice. How it hums beside you, how it's the only familiar thing you have in this form. Your ears settle closer to your back, your arms spread out in front of you.
“There we go” You’re nudged again in your side, and you can't help but let out a happy little chuff– the most akin to a laugh you can find in this form, built only for panic.
It’s as if suddenly, the big scary world was no longer so big, nor so scary. The world– all its sights and sounds and smells and tactiles, are no longer directly feeding into your senses. The sun was warming your fur, and that was enough comfort for you.
The world, and all its predators, and towns, and people, aren’t even a latent concern in your mind. Instead, you have your husband to keep talking so he could maintain a hold on your attention.
The world you were once nothing but bait for, suddenly didn't even concern you. Because your fur was getting groomed, and that was enough to occupy you for now.
The sun rolled over its highest point , the trees that once danced atop the skin of the water, now casting a shadow upon your lover and you. Voices follow upon your path.
“Just relax,”
They grow closer. Grow louder than the rustling of the leaves above.
“Just stay still, with me”
There’s three of them, heavy footed on the dirt.
“Angel”
You need to run.
“Just-”
Two large hands pick you up from your hind. No matter how much you squirm and how much you buck, they won’t relent for your escape. You care little for the voices you know, trying to ease you. You only care for the blood rushing within you, trying to pull you out from the inside.
Legend is held in front of you by one of them, his voice returning back to your attention.
“It’s just Twilight.” He says, though it leaves him more on one panicked breath.
“It’s just some of the others. They know how to get us back.” His voice returns calmer than before, a shaky ease about him. It’s not quite enough to bring you calm, but it’s enough to get you to stop bucking.
“What- How?” Now that– that seems to rock him some. He can’t stand to look at you while he plans what he says.
“I won’t lie to you.” Never reassuring to open with.
“It’s going to hurt” Never good to lead into.
“You just have to trust me. You can do that, right?” And for just a moment, you’re not sure you can.
They wait until you’re settled, until you relent to let them fix it.
The whole ordeal goes with far less fanfare than you’d’ve thought. A sword –the mastersword, you realise a moment too late– is pressed upon your forehead. And that’s it.
Well, aside from the pain.
Your bones crack and break open, growing and changing and moulding back to what they’re supposed to be. Your skin stretches and snaps, forced to grow into a much bigger body. The fur once covering you is forced from your skin, a searing, burning pain as it leaves you.
The hind consciousness is purged from your head.
𖦹
You awake covered by a now very human Legend, his hands running through your hair.
“Feeling any better?” Sky checks in once he hears you groan out the residual pain.
“Sure,” You sigh, not really sure if *this* qualifies as better, when it’s still so painful. Twilight and Legend mumble their understanding. Legend’s hands curl you closer, as if He might absorb some of the pain out of your bones
“Never again.” You swear, swallowing down the bile trying to force itself up a the reminding wave of pain flowing through you.
“Glad I got some photos while I could then!” Wild chirps happily, scrolling through the slate.
“You what?”
