A Song for Rabbits (Ayane)

[Marcus Finch]

Most people got butterflies in their stomachs when they were upset. But not Marcus. Marcus got hornets, and today his hornets were swarming with such fury that his whole body shook. With heavy boots the punk sought refuge in the depths of the forest, trudging deeper and deeper between the tangled trees and sparing no thought to how he would find his way back again. Twigs snapped under his weight and the wildlife fled as he forced his way through thick jungle vines. Every step caused his broken arm to bump against his chest in its sling, drawing a grimace to his face. But even the throbbing shoulder could not convince him to slow his pace.

By this point, it was rather obvious to most people on the island that the punk suffered from serious anger issues. So, the fact that it was his roommate’s dearest ambition to harass him at every opportunity was as idiotic as it was dangerous. Marcus wondered whether Vik had a death wish, because he could see no other reason for the boy’s insufferable attitude. Jaw clenched, Marcus’s hornets hummed from his stomach through his veins and into his head. His body vibrated with the force of them until he was certain that he would explode.

All things considered, it was lucky that he got away when he did. Marcus was already on the cusp of spontaneous combustion when he fled the scene, and there was little doubt that the two would have come to blows if he wasn’t able to get away. Now, he turned his fury on the forest. The punk slowed to a stop and selected a large stick from the forest floor. He slung it against the trunk of a nearby tree, watching with satisfaction as it broke on impact. Picking up another, he repeated the exercise until the ground was littered with what could only be described as wood chips. Sweat-soaked and panting, Marcus felt the hornets begin to still. He leaned back against the trunk of a tree and closed his eyes as he focused on breathing.

Slowly, he eased himself to the ground with his back pressed against the tree. He fished a cigarette from his pocket and found a match to light it with, the whole process made frustratingly complicated by the limited use of his left arm. For a moment the angry buzzing in his head threatened to take over once more, but one by one the hornets returned to their hive. The punk took a long pull on the cigarette. He exhaled and watched as the cloud billowed in front of him for a moment before dissipating into the air. Regaining balance on the edge of his tolerance, Marcus tried to clear his mind. He tried not to think of Vik or Freya, of the tournament and his shattered shoulder; he tried not to think of the swollen right side of his face and the bruises that were fading to a shade of green that even he couldn’t find attractive. Most of all, he tried not to think about how alone he felt.

[Ayane Aiko]

The small white rabbit was hopping along into the darker, deeper parts of the forest, seemingly unaware that on this particular island the woods could hide much more than only wolves and snakes that would see her as a toothsome treat and gobble her up. On this island, the beasts and creatures that once had stalked the woods of old were now walking the hallways of the school; beings that could control the elements on a whim, make others see things that aren’t there, and feed off their emotions. If you didn’t know that those beings were students, human beings, you would think they were monsters out of a story book, no? To the rabbit they certainly did, they almost reminded her of ancient spirits, malevolent or benevolent depending on their mood that day rather than any strong moral compass. Of course, that was just what she had assumed thus far. She hadn’t exactly gone out of her way to meet the ones that called this island home, her among their ranks now. She wasn’t exactly the type to go and see if the monsters were real. She left that up to other people, stronger people.

Therefore, the bunny didn’t have nearly as big of anger issues as the boy did, if any. She simply wasn’t an angry person. Sure, when she was forced to transform into her rabbit form against her will, then she was angry. She would then become an irritated little mammal, trying to give the people that forced her a piece of her mind. Though, because she couldn’t speak while in this form, she had to settle for squeaking at them and pointing her nose rather intensely, which was her own way of glaring.

This time was no different, though it didn’t last as long as she would have liked since the group of immature boys that scared her had fled the scene shortly after seeing her become an animal. So she had decided that she would wait it out in the forest, free of childish pranks. In her state of annoyance she wasn’t thinking clearly, or perhaps she was and thought that the daylight would protect her from the creepy crawly things and the not so nice things that she was sure hid out in the forest. Nevertheless, here she was. She was looking for a nice place to maybe take a nap when she first heard it, muted thumps like a tree smacking into another tree, and her curiosity was piqued. Her ears twitched as she changed directions, heading towards the odd sound.

It wasn't long before she found it, her nose filling up with the smell of broken wood and a rather perplexed -for a rabbit- expression came to her furry little face as she took in the sight of the green haired and bruised boy sitting against the tree trunk. She squeaked curiously, slowly taking a few hops closer to him. He looked...angry? Sad? A mixture of the two, she decided, the longer she looked at his face.

[Marcus Finch]

Leaning against the tree, Marcus tried to turn his thoughts away from his troubles and to the environment around him. Rough bark pressed into his spine and the earth below him felt forever moist with the island humidity. The towering trees draped themselves with thick vines as if to preserve the modesty of their branches. Hiding in those same branches were unseen creatures that rustled and squawked as they went about their business. Whether they were oblivious to Marcus’s presence or just ignoring him, he wasn’t sure. The punk took another drag on his cigarette and smirked through the filter. How many times had the nurses warned him against smoking? As if he should be more worried about lung cancer than the psychopaths that inhabited the island.

Marcus exhaled a thin stream of smoke and allowed the tension in his shoulders to relax as his pulse returned to normal. He sighed in temporary relief and leaned his head against his tree. The process of pulling himself together after an episode was as familiar to the punk as his favourite song, but he knew it wouldn't last. It didn't matter how far he ran, his problems always caught up with him in the end. Then, as if on cue, something squeaked and Marcus snapped out of his thoughts. The punk raised his chin expecting to see his roommate standing over him with a hatchet, only to find nothing but empty air. Frowning in confusion he lowered his gaze until he noticed a tiny white rabbit staring at him with the most curious expression. Marcus stared back with his mouth hanging agape, the clever retort he'd planned for Vik dead on his tongue.

“Err,” he blinked dumbly at the rabbit and it blinked back. Marcus didn’t fancy himself an expert on rabbits, but he was certain he’d never seen one like that before. At least, none of the rabbits he knew could manage to look quite as inquisitive as the creature before him. “Hello?” he tried, puzzling over how a wild rabbit could keep its fur so clean and white. “If you’re looking for Alice I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong forest. You’re a long way from Wonderland, Sweetheart, and that white fur of yours won’t do out here.” Slowly so as not to startle it, Marcus leaned forward and reached out his good hand to beckon it closer. “Come on, then. You shouldn’t be out here. Are you somebody’s pet? I can tell you that having white fur in the jungle is no good. You’ll want green fur like me so that you blend in,” he offered the bunny a soft smile that didn’t seem to suit his bruised and punkish appearance.

But the more he thought about it, the stranger the situation seemed. Frowning, Marcus withdrew his hand and watched the rabbit with suspicion. “Maybe you’re not lost,” he muttered to himself. The expression on the rabbit’s face was just a bit too human to be natural, and he couldn’t recall anyone on the island being allowed to keep a pet. “You know, in my country there’s a popular superstition that white rabbits are witches in disguise. Though Monty Python would have it that you’re a vicious killing machine that wants to eat me,” he explained. The smirk was back, but Marcus didn’t offer the bunny his hand again. Straightening himself, Marcus popped the cigarette back in his mouth. “So,” the filter of his cigarette muffled his words as he spoke, “what’ll it be, Sweetheart? Are you here to curse me or eat me? Or, perhaps we’re going down the rabbit hole today? I think I’m already halfway there.”

[Ayane Aiko]

The little white rabbit who was not late for a very important date could not stop staring at the boy’s hair. She had been too busy before to really take a look at it besides noting it’s unusual color, having been looking at the rest of him. It was the color of dark grass. Of leaves. Of a particularly nasty looking strain of mold that may or may not grow fur. She looked back down to the moldy haired boy’s face, making a squeaking sound that could pass for a chuckle. For a bunny rabbit anyways, as she caught sight of his expression. She could understand though. As far as she knew she was the only rabbit on the island, not to mention the only rabbit shifter. Then again she hadn't tried to confirm that with anyone...for all she knew there was a whole group of students who could change into a rabbit already on the island. A "fluffle" of rabbits. Another one of those squeaking chuckles left her as she recalled the word used to describe a group of rabbits. It wasn't used all over since "herd" was more common, but it was more fitting for rabbits.

However, he recovered from his shocked reaction fairly quick, and her ears straightened and leaned forwards to show that she was listening to him. It worked for a few moments until one of her ears decided that it didn't quite like being straight for more than that, beginning to bend in the middle and simply flopping forward after that. She didn't try to right it for the time being, seeing as that ear always flopped just so no matter what she did. That being said, it did stick up once again when he reached a hand towards her. He might seem nonthreatening but that didn't mean she wanted him to really touch her either. She hopped backwards, just out of reach, and had to stretch herself to give the very tip of his fingers a curious sniff.  At the mention of being someone's pet, though...she broke away from him to stare up at him, squeaking indignantly and even hopping in place to emphasize her point.  Pet? Pet?! She was no one's pet thank you very much!

Her look of curiosity about the grass haired boy had quickly morphed into her best effort at a glare as she watched him take another breath of his cigarette, the acrid scent of it mixing with the smell of wood and making her sneeze. She balanced herself on her hind legs, using her front paws to pat at her nose in an attempt to get the smell out of it, the motions almost the same as the ones she used for cleaning her face. Once she was done she simply rested her paws back on the ground and regarded him once again, trying to make sense of the odd boy.

And here she thought she was the weird one.