Critters in the Moonlight

I sat in the forest glade, petting the small red-violet rabbit in my lap. The creature’s fur was unbelievably soft and colorful enough to possess an afterglow in the night’s gloom.

“There is so much I don’t understand. The world is so big and the forest is so dark, do I dare explore? What dangers lurk? What do you think?”

I glanced down and smiled at the rabbit. It gazed up at me for a moment, black eyes pools of void in the dim moonlight. The rabbit stood up, stretched, then hopped away. It turned around briefly to look at me once again, rose a paw to show me it held my wallet, than leapt into the woods.

“D-damn it.”

I would never see that wallet again.


Later, while skulking through the woods on business that need not be named, I came across an owl standing in a ring of carefully laid bones. It was watching me with an expectant air, as if it had summoned me. Such was the intensity of creature’s gaze, this is a real possibility.

“What are you, small thing?” I asked under my breath in a language we did not share. “Are you an owl or a witch?”

We traveled together for the evening. The owl hunted and I built a fire to keep away the oncoming chill. When I awoke in the morning, it was gone, leaving me to wonder if I served as it’s familiar for the night.


Atticus pet the red-violet hare in his lap, paying close attention to the space between its ears.

“Rabbits are related to demons,” the bun explained lazily, eyes drifting shut. “Our ears are remnants of horns.”

“I don’t think that is true at all.”

“I know what I’m talking about,” the rabbit said sleepily, reaching into the villain’s pockets and stealing his pocket change. It dosed off once it had robbed him of all his lunch money.

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