Work time again, that means more writing. Instead of doing what's sexiest, I'll actually follow the whims of the characters
Although the world isnt designed to allow them peaceful lives for very long.

___________

"Hey bun bun?"

Her ears perk up, and her tail does to. Her bouncing stops and she looks me right in the eyes like I scared her out of a daze by calling to her.

"Uhuh?"

"How do you feel about the other Lions you've seen around the city, like me."

"They're mean! You're the nicest Lion. I bet theres lots more good Lions… but…"

"Dont be too open… how do you really feel?"

Her whole posture rounds out and says, she looks down to her paw as she rubs it with her hand.

"They scare me…"

"You wouldnt want any over as guests, would you?"

"No! They're scary. I wanna stay with you and just you. If Lions come over to play with you then I'll just wait in bed."

Shes going to die– that's the first thought that crosses my mind when she says that. The idea of a defenseless bunny lying in bed when lions approach, they would claw right into her covers and tear her open, just for the fun of it.

"And how do you feel about the other bunnies?"

"They make me feel weird…"

"What's weird about them?"

"I don't like their chains. Or the weird things on their faces…"

"…"

"Why di bunnies like that stuff? I think it looks ugly."

"Because those things mean they get to live, in this country."

Mini is scared right away. Her sad and reflective look turns suddenly to tearing at the eyes and shaking in her palms. Because she lives here, because she can see, she already knows shes not like everybody else, and shes perfectly aware what those markings make them, slaves. That much she has put together, her understanding of it is visible on her face, although her lips have never formed the words and when you ask her to confront that fact…

"…" silence.

"Bunny, you know that dont you? That the ones like you are mostly made of use, not taken care of."

". . ."

"Nina, I need you to answer me on this. How do you feel about becoming a bunny like that?"

Shes quiet. Shes slowly curled up into a ball now, and her eyes are wide and tearing. It seems like if she could storm out of the home right now, she would, but because she cant shes just run off in her mind. When she gets like this, I cant communicate with her, it takes days of coddling to get her to talk again, and we dont have that kind of time.

"You have to try with me on this. If you had to, would you become a bunny like that"

Still silence. I walk towards her, shes curled up into a tiny ball the length of my forearm, she looks like a mound of snow with crying eyes wetting the bed. I touch her, saying "cmon, girl"

"Please don't hurt me!" She says, and tucks her arm tight to her chest.

"I'm not gonna hur.." I say, reflexively, before realizing what she means. She knows about the branding, and shes terribly afraid of it. This is why shes been shutting down, a shop keeper bunny must've explained it to her when I wasnt looking.

"Pleaseee… " she whines. I grab her forearm.

"Itll only hurt for a second." I'm lying.

"Noooo! I dont want it, I dont wanna get branded! I'll die, I'll really die!" Shes speaking too fast to understand, and squirming against my grip with every fiver of her body as I drag her out of bed by her plush but tiny forearm. "No, no! My fur will catch on fire, then I really will die! I'll scream my lungs out! Please dont take me! I'm afraid to get a branding! Nooooo!"

I drag her slow down iron stairs made of old rooftops and wire fences, and into the kitchen where ramshackle plumbing has been erected illegally around a pipe that's supposed to bring lake water deeper into the city. I have some equipment down there which was given to me free, every time someone sees I have a bunny they gift me some new torture device. As a result I have all the shackles and hot irons that I need to handle this job. I wouldnt if I didnt have to, but its gonna have to start with restraining her tiny wrists somehow, and getting something she can chew on into her mouth so she doesnt chip a tooth.

"You were supposed to be different than other Lions! I thought I was a special bunny! How come how come how come how come how come?!?!"

I toss her to the ground in front of me, my arm exhausted by holding the fighty little weight. She dashes away the moment I let go, but she cant reach the door handle made for adult lions instead of young bunnies, and she knows that, so she dashes straight into the furthest corner of the room, putting her hands put to the walls and sticking to them, splayed out like a star. Trying to keep her chest and head as far away from me as possible, using the walls to support her in a state of mindless anxiety. She stops talking as I start to gather the tools I need, watching me with just her eyes as I drag the chain shell be tied in to the middle of the room. Flinching hard and shivering when I turn on the burner for the stove. And and breathing hard as I heat the burner, taking slow breaths in and harsh breaths out. I can kind of tell she doesnt want to throw up.

When I come close to her to start the process of trying her down, I take her forearm again, but it's almost as though its taped to the wall. She stares at me like she has been, staying silent but for her breaths. I'm just about to tell her to please be good, but before I can, her eyes roll up, her head swing back, it hits the wall lightly and her knees buckle out. Shes been hyperventilating tok long, in combination with the stress of being touched, she faints, her limp noodle posture held up only by my grip on her arm.