Bunnygirls

by Simon Archer

  When I was done with all of that, I turned my attention to the rest of the Wolves, who were in a similar mindset as Lassie was as they chased Hopper around at blinding speeds. The zipping bunny was keeping a steady pace ahead of the hungry dogs chasing her, thanks to her still being able to eat something and keep her energy.

  “Bring them over here!” I shouted over to her. At the call, she turned a sharp corner, gliding across the stumps as her chasers crashed into them like a Nascar pileup. Unlike a Nascar pileup, the crashing meat vehicles used their long arms and claws to regain their footing, diving back into their crazed sprint toward her.

  I took a bit of a power stance as I aimed towards Toby, Scooby, and Old Yeller, hoping that Hopper would take the hint as to my plan. Even though I’d stripped their leather armor to make this easier, since the storm bullets were heavily dampened by shocking the leather instead of the target, I couldn’t miss these shots with Hopper in the way. In a normal situation, we could have strategized verbally to coordinate against beasts, but these could listen, so my body language had to be fluent so as not to tip them off. She nodded, perching herself in her run to look like she was jumping. The Wolves bought the fake, jumping above her in anticipation of catching her up there. She changed her form at the last minute, tucking her legs as she slid underneath me, stopping herself on a tree trunk with a thud.

  As helpless as fish out of water, the Wolves all spun wildly around in the air as they were shocked by my storm rounds, crashing into the ground in giant crumpled balls of different colored furs. Surprisingly, that was easier than some of the other times, though much more intense. Most of that was thanks to Hopper’s intervention, though I promised myself I wouldn’t ever put her in a position like that again. They were obviously getting weaker as they were getting hungrier and more desperate.

  I walked up to each Wolf, waking them up with a hit from the butt of my gun. Nothing brutal, just firmer than what was probably necessary to wake them up. I was more than a little pissed this time. Like sorrowful sloths, they groveled at my feet.

  “Never again,” I spoke deeply. My voice was hard to control when I was upset, but these hounds had gone too far this time. I could have handled these mangy mutts any day, but Hopper would always have been off-limits. “Understand?”

  There was a pause among them. The aura I felt from them told me they knew they fucked up big time.

  “But Hopper took some chocolate, even though she--” Old Yeller tried to justify himself like a six-hundred-pound child. He got a pistol whip to the head, as did the rest of them.

  “Understand?”

  They all nodded their heads like depressed tortoises, a couple of them whimpering a bit to try to earn my pity. It worked better for them the first time but lost its appeal by the forty-first.

  Never in my wildest nightmares would I have seen pistol-whipping and live rounds to be necessary tools for discipline, but when it’s either that or let a beast tear into someone’s arm, possibly yours, possibly a loved one’s, you put away such strict moral codes to reach the greater moral goal of keeping everyone alive and fully limbed. If those Wolves had ever doubted that I could take any of them on in a fight, I was sure I’d thoroughly rectified their thinking.

  I could barely stomach the fact that this had to happen. My hope was that Hopper was still feeling safe and that these dogs could last the rest of the trip. Something had to be done. Now it was time I bit the bullet. Granted, this was always my back-up plan, but I was really hoping it wouldn’t ever have had to come to that. But it did.

  Worst case scenario.

  The most disappointingly aggravating part of all this wasn’t in the lost time, or the strained forbearance, or the unbearable intensity, or even the sore muscles from all that asswhooping I was laying on thick all the time. Besides seeing Hopper’s life in any kind of danger, as well as her passionate aura dim so low from the stress of all this, I was mostly angered by the fact that I had to give up that jerky.

  Dried venison, brown sugar, red pepper with a pinch of black, a few special spices for kick, all smoked with oak wood. I learned that recipe from a grateful customer, more than enough payment, and it was the first time I tried making it myself. It was also supposed to just be a snack; I didn’t bring enough for a full serving for me, let alone all of them. They could only have had a strip every morning from here to have made it last the rest of the way, and it wouldn’t be in any way satisfying after starving for so long. Thankfully, those strips were still packed with some powerful protein, keeping energy up for whoever ate it. It would have helped take the edge off if only just the tiniest bit. Better than nothing.

  Keep in mind that I hadn’t had a bite of this jerky yet. These tasty treats were special to me, and I wanted to be able to savor them after a great victory. In a bit of trivial selfishness for my own amusement, I considered every other option, from tying them all up and dragging them the rest of the way to feeding one Wolf to the others. I considered killing all the Wolves and using their meat for more jerky. For one split second of madness, I even considered feeding them one of my arms to keep them away from my precious jerky. Then I realized just how crazy that would have been. They’d just have wanted the other one.

  Needless to say, they got the damn jerky. As I was evening out the portions for each of them, giving them their sinfully delicious spiced meat, my mouth watered like some kind of spit damn broke in there. The thought of the army chocolate became spiteful in my mind. I couldn’t believe that I could never have this magnificent jerky, and I was stuck eating this stupid, bitter, deliberately disgusting chocolate. But they were calming down, and that meant less stress for all of us. I supposed it was worth it, even then.

  “My lord, if I may?” Hopper stood beside me and gave me the army chocolate. “If it would help you survive and keep your pack alive, perhaps I could give myself--”

  “Nuh-uh, no, never.” I shut that ‘meaningless life, meaningful sacrifice’ bullshit down before it could breathe its first breath, taking an angry nibble of the foul chocolate. “At no point will I ever tell you that you have to die so that I can live. If it came down to it, I would name you the heir to my household and give my body to them so you could make it out of here. That’s also not going to happen. I am disappointed that this is how it turned out, but not unprepared for it. These Wolves have learned their lesson and will have to live off of this absolutely divine jerky they don’t deserve.”

  “You sound upset, my lord.” She massaged my arm to soothe me. “This jerky is obviously very precious to you. Is that why you wouldn’t give it to them before? I would never want to force you to choose between me and something you love.”

  “Okay, let’s not get melodramatic.” I swung my arm around her. “It’s just jerky. I was looking forward to eating it later is all, and it wouldn’t have helped if I gave it to them at the start. They’d be just as hungry now as they just were, but then I’d have no jerky to appease them with, and this whole mess would have lasted longer, maybe killing some of them. Maybe killing one of us if we underestimated how manic they’d act. Now, their wills are broken, and they’ll accept the jerky without any fuss. I had hoped that they’d be able to last a bit longer so I could give them bigger portions later, or maybe save at least something for myself, but I guess that’s what they chose. Maybe now they’ll appreciate my oak-smoked gourmet treat. Was I really that obsessive over it?”

  “Well, you did make an emergency plan to get them to eat it properly on this trip, my lord.” She admitted with a giggle. “And you kept whispering the ingredients to yourself when you handed out the strips.”

  “Yeah, that’s a little weird.” I humbled myself as we both sat down on a stump. “Maybe I shouldn’t have been so focused on this jerky.”

  “Well, the pack is peaceful now.” She looked at the tired dogs chewing their strips slowly. “Things seemed to have turned up well.”

  “I didn’t know being a pack leader was gonna be this exhausting.” I laid back onto
the stump, looking up at the evening sunset. A blue sun changes the color palette so much. I couldn’t even begin to describe the new combinations of colors, the blues and greens washing out into the craziest explosions of violets. I was floored. “Are bunnies and hares this much trouble, too?”

  “Have I been that much trouble, my lord?” She laid down beside me and rested on my arm. “I hope I’m not--”

  I just gave her a look this time.

  “You are pleased with me,” Hopper said, finally starting to get it as I smiled at her. “You aren’t mad at me or think I’m doing a bad job. You are just joking about bunnies and hares being troublesome.”

  “Yeah, I can tone down the jokes like that if it bothers you,” I said, watching the sun finally disappear into the horizon. The stairs started to come into the sky, filling it up like a sparkly drape over the world. I could hear the Wolves behind us snoring, even from the dozen yards of distance we were from them.

  “If I may be frank, my lord,” Hopper slithered a leg over me, pulling herself up to straddle me, “You’ll find I’m not bothered by many things that may come our way if it means I am pleasing you. Tiring days, slumbering monsters.” She untied her hair, letting those dark waves fall into the midnight sky. “Cold nights.” Her fingers undid the top buttons of her plaid shirt. “Wooden stump beds.”

  With her hands crossed, she pulled the bottom of her shirt up and over her head to reveal her creamy skin and bountiful view of her own, moving on to the bra she kept from her maid’s outfit.

  “Hard demands.” She continued her list, letting her chest breathe and unhooking my overalls as my hands got busy exploring. “Sweaty work.”

  “Jesus Christ, Hopper.” I lifted myself up to her lips, letting the straps of my overalls fall. “A man can only handle so much in one day.”

  “Then I can handle things from here, my lord.” She pushed a hand to my chest, lowering me down to lying again. “You’ve been working so hard this past week. Let me make it up to you.”

  And so she did. Once she started, I forgot all about the aches and pains, my jerky, and all of this long day, letting the stress fall away with her every movement.

  William Night wasn’t kidding about those Rabbit women. Boy, howdy.

  13

  “You are the most powerful warrior I know about, sir,” Tinker stated as we walked through the catacombs. “And I’ve read about a lot of heroes. I’ve never met a Wolf that let anything get in between them and a meal, let alone five who willfully submitted like that.”

  “Eh, that’s just like dogs in my world. They’re stomachs with fur and claws attached.” I said, then taking a pause to think about the implication of her words. “Do you mean the jerky when you’re talking about a Wolf meal?”

  “No, I meant Hopper,” Tinker said, letting some of that bluntness out again. “Wolves eat Rabbits a lot. Mostly the nobles, but sometimes a Wolf grunt would be rewarded with one to eat.”

  “The hairless bunnies are considered a delicacy, my lord.” Hopper included. “Although some nobles tried to appear more lordly by restraining, other Wolf nobles would have specialized breeding of their slaves to make and sell for desserts and snacks.”

  “Do they, now?” I said, holding my stomach as it turned inside out. “I guess that explains your willingness to be eaten alive so hastily.” I took a breath of disbelief. “It just doesn’t stop, does it? The horribleness and depravity the nobles keep drowning themselves in. Every time I think I’ve reached the bottom of the barrel, there’s a whole other barrel beneath the panels. Like a wooden slide straight to hell.”

  “I’m glad you are not like that, my lord.” Hopper gave a polite bow. “I very much appreciate you wanting me alive enough to fight off five starving Wolves for two weeks.”

  “Yeah, don’t mention it.” I welcomed her. “I’d do anything for my people to stay not eaten. I know they wouldn’t pay the kindness when it came down to it, but I’d do the same for the Wolves, too. They’re monstrous mutts, but they’re my boys. And you two are thousands of times more precious than that, at least.”

  I was sneak-attacked by two hugs before I could defend myself as the girls pinned me from both sides. A welcoming warmth filled me up, feeling them press into me as they were showing that they appreciated me. It may not have seemed like much, but it was more than enough to force a tear from my eye. I trapped the pair in the tightest hug I had in the repertoire. Both of them were nuzzling their faces into me, and I was done.

  “The nobles couldn’t have been as simple, though, sir.” Tinker looked up from the hug. “How did you navigate the Wolves’ challenge-acquisition system when you look like you?” She caught her bluntness just after it came out, breaking away from the hug in her embarrassment. “Not that you look bad or anything! You’re very handsome. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, in fact.” She blushed so red that I was worried her head was going to pop. “Not that I was trying anything, or wanting anything specific, I was just observing. It’s an observation! Just like your shirt is red, and your overgarment is a dark brown, and your chest is very muscular, and I’d like to see it closer at some point--” She tried to seal her lips, but the sentence came out before she could stop it, forcing her to just stare at me with wide eyes to see my reaction.

  “If I may be bold, she’s as bad as you, my lord.” Hopper kissed my cheek and rubbed my chest, turning to Tinker. “You’ve made some very accurate observations. You’re in for a treat.”

  “I would never…” Tinker stuttered out. “... have asked… out loud… about that.”

  Jesus, I couldn’t hold in my laugh. Hopper joined along with me, walking over to Tinker and taking her to her own side by the hip to walk her along.

  “You okay, Tinker?” Hopper asked her. She didn’t respond, her wide-eyed stare keeping forward with her pace. “Tinker? Hello?”

  “Oh!” Tinker jumped as she snapped back to reality. “That’s me. Sorry, I’m not used to having a name.”

  “I’m sure there’s a lot you’re adjusting to right now,” I sympathized as I walked beside them. “You can take it as slow as you need. Would you like to hear how I managed to deal with the nobles, looking as ‘beautiful’ as I do?”

  “Yes, please,” she whispered.

  Reaching back to the story, the edge of the treeless forest was finally breached. With no incident onward from the Wolves’ bedlam incident onward, we finally, by the grace of all that was holy in two worlds, made it to civilization relatively unscathed and sane. My dogs were dragging themselves along by this point, only moving at the mention of jerky. Hopper was now much more chipper without the constant beast angst looming over everything, which put a spring in my step, too. It'd been a whole mess of setbacks and discoveries, but we were getting close to our goals as of this moment.

  As we made it past that final hill, I looked out onto the slope leading down to our destination. What I beheld was probably the worst bit of landscaping I’d ever laid my eyes on. There were many, many attempts at stump removal around here, clearing out most of this plot of land of the stump field we had become accustomed to these past few weeks. What was left behind were poorly covered dirt blotches littering the ground like the earth had some kind of allergic reaction, or like freckles from the devil’s asscheeks. I could have done a better job on my first day working outside as a punk kid, and I couldn’t tell fertile ground from fertilizer back then. These damn Wolves tried to put some little ranches down, probably attempting to cover their shame, sprinkling the place with three buildings I could see with fenced corrals coming off them.

  Then I saw the most miraculous sight of my life. My prayers for food were answered as these little corrals, like any good ranch, had big beasts inside them. If you took a moose and fattened it up, or you took a cow and blew it up to moose size, you might have something similar to how these thick livestock looked. They had tight fur coats over their bodies, with beefy legs stretching down from them almost like hairy tree trunks. Their gargant
uan feet had three toes on the front, each with a nail like a horse’s hoof, and a thick toe hanging off the back with another horse hoof.

  They all had horns growing out of their heads, though to call them just horns would be making things too simple. On the smaller ones, which I assumed were the females, their horns grew up and over their heads, meeting at the top in a circle. The edges were lined with little spikes curved upwards on each side, leaving a little space at the very top where the spikes pointed towards each other. The others, the big meaty fellas, were crowned with horns patterned and thick like a ram’s, but with the point curling upward, and more horns sprawling out from the bases like the curved branches of winter trees. They were more akin to antlers in that way and gave them the royal status of king amongst farm beasts in my mind.

  The strangest thing was that the fur covering each of them was a bright emerald green, with dark green swirls dancing along their bodies, down their legs, and up their faces. Each one’s swirls were different, some of them looking like tribal tattoos on mighty native warriors for the treehorn males, and thin strands for the circle-horn females. From then on, I started calling them Emerald Royal cattle. Though finding out what Emerald Royal beef steak was like would have had to wait.

  Just past those ranches was the city of our aspirations and vengeance. For a place run by vicious brutes, it was a beauty to behold. Walls surrounded the landside edges of the town, making a crescent shape as the ends stretched out part-way into the sea. From our overview, I could see the buildings packed like sardines lining down stone roadways, like veins in a grey leaf, sprawling out toward the waters. The grey stone turned to brown wood when the town turned into a dock, with almost half the buildings resting there as well as the land. Tiny little blips danced around the sea just beyond the town, probably fishing for food or visiting one of the barges sprinkled around with even more housing. At the center of this town, sitting on its own star-shaped island, a castle rose above the rest of the town like a mountain. Well, not so much a mountain as a dark box, the fortress walls being as tall as they were wide, and creatively designed as I would have expected from Wolves. Even from here, I could see it was a majestic locale, rivaling places like Venice and Paris, though I’d never been to either.