"Little bunny, what are you doing twitching your whiskers around here? You're in a dangerous neck of the woods, you know." The hare's pink eyes darted up to the wolf. He felt his ears try to turn towards her voice, but they were pinned to his back by her paw. Her claws dug into his shoulders, pressing him down into the harsh brush of the forest floor. All he saw in her great black shadow was a single golden eye, gleaming and half-lidded. The hare's body shook. He felt the pine needles sticking up into his body were getting far too close to his heart, as if they would pierce and pop it if it raced any faster. "I-I-I-I-I... I'm lost, Miss Wolf, just passing through. Looking for someplace else." The hare squeaked and squirmed. "My den's gone, Miss, flooded - all the greens are washed up down the way the moon sets. I couldn't feed a cub. I'll be out of your fur in no time." The wolf's paw moved up his back, pressing his head down. She leaned over his ear. "You should have gone the way of the prevailing wind, little bunny. I saw a whole den of your kin going that way. You'll find emptiness out this way. Soot. You know that. Why would you come?" "M-Miss Wolf, please, I just got lost. I don't mean you or your pups or anyone any trouble. I'm just a hare, a skinny one. Let me pass and I'll be out of your fur before you know it. No need to hurt nobody." "Do you smell pups, little bunny?" The wolf's voice was patient, curious. The hare's nose twitched once, then twice. There was pine, sap, the tiny bugs that were no good to eat, the soil, himself, his blood, his terror, but no, no, no, no, no, nothing like a pup. He said as much, but the wolf was not satisfied. She pushed down on the hare's head, and he saw the tip of a pine needle so close to his eye that it blurred into something so softer than he felt could pierce him. It reminded him of when he was barely in fur, when the things that stood like trees with their odd feet caught him. One stuck him with a stick so thin he barely felt it. The wolf spoke again. "What is it you do smell, little bunny?" "Just the woods, Miss Wolf, nothing of yours." "I asked you what you smelled, not what it is you thought was mine. I would like you to smell carefully." The wolf's paw was heavy on the hare's neck, but he managed to take in a deeper breath. Pine and dirt and sap and himself and his blood and his own fear and the bugs. There was air here and smoke a far way aways, like the wolf said. No good bugs, no berries, no green that didn't poke, no owls, no fox, no odd-footed things, no pups… "No wolf? …Miss Wolf?" The hare squeaked out his words. "Miss… I-I can't smell no wolf." "Then there is no wolf," the wolf said. Her great paw left the hare's back, and he leapt away as fast as his trembling legs were back under him. Blood pulsed out of his wounds with every pound of his heart, leaving stains on his white fur and little puddles in his uneven foot prints. There was no growl, no chase, no howl. His eyes flicked back to look for her. There was only the trees. The wolf was nowhere to be seen. For a fraction of second his quick brain had thought it was his own fault, that he'd stumbled over a log, that that was why he was back on the ground. Then the weight came down just the same as before, the wolf's claws settling into the same wounds and pinning him back down in the soil, stabbed by the dry pine needles. He cried out. "This is a dangerous neck of the woods, little bunny. You know that. You are a bounding little stomach, a thing for larger things to catch and chew. There is no one here to hear you." "T-there's you, Miss Wolf", and his heart fluttered and throbbed in his ears. The wolf's breath was cold on his back, and his keen ears heard a single swish like a tail. "You can hear me, Miss Wolf, and I say I'll go, I'll get lost. I don't mean nothing by being here." "You didn't go the way of the prevailing wind. You came towards the smoke. That is a dangerous thing for a hare to do." "I got turned around, Miss. I'm all about, but I know wind-ways now, and I'll get lost." The wolf's nose pushed against the hare's ear, and he heard her sniffing. Her nose traveled down his cheek, and then her tongue, cold and damp, brushed his fur. It sent a shiver through the hare's spine, and he pawed pitifully at the dirt against a weight that was too great. She licked up the blood on his neck. He heard the wet, sharp click of her teeth. "You bounded towards the smoke when I let you go. You ran away, and you ran right back towards where I am. Do you have a death wish, little bunny?" "I-I ran the way I was pointed, Miss Wolf. That's all I did. I'm a coward and a silly hare. I just want to go, Miss Wolf. I'll run out of your way." The hare squeaked as the wolf's claws dug deeper. Her breath was colder than the autumn air. She lapped at the wounds she gave him like he was her packmate. "Little bunny, little bunny, do you not have the sense that the Mother Soil gave to a stone?" The wolf's words were almost tender. "There is nothing good in these woods for you. It's no place for a rabbit." The hare shivered and felt his legs kicking. His nose twitched, and the wolf's nose did as well. "No place for rabbit. But little bunny, that is not your name nor your kin, is it? You are not a rabbit. You are a hare. And you know how your pretty white coat looks against the deep green of the pines and the brown of the earth, don't you? It shows you off, doesn't it, little bunny?" The wolf's voice was like ice water running down his back. "I-it's a good coat for winter, Miss. Can't well take it off." "Little bunny, little hare, you know how pretty you look, and that's why you're here, isn't it? I think this is exactly the place you're meant to be. You're less than a stomach. You do not think because you cannot smell me that I cannot smell you. You were looking for me. You want me to catch you. You want me to have you, little hare. You came out here to have an adventure and an end to one, didn't you? You wanted me to find you, didn't you?" "N-n-no, Miss Wolf, no, no, I-I didn't even know there were wolves this way." "There are no wolves this way." The pine needles seemed to all tease with their nearness, tips just making contact with his whiskers and the fine fur on his face, just a push of her paw from his eye. The wolf's teeth brushed the skin of his neck. She breathed cold air. He heard the soft, wet click of her teeth. He closed his eyes tight. "I want to have you, little bunny." He felt his heart pushing against the needles. "You want to be had." He could see nothing but the soft blur of the needles. "I want to eat you, little bunny. Do you want to be eaten? You are nothing but a bounding little stomach, and it is right and good for you to be had and eaten." "I-I'm sorry, Miss Wolf. I'll run. I'll just go, and you won't hear me. You won't smell me, Miss, I'm just a little bunny, not good enough to eat." "No, little bunny. It is right and good. You were put here, and I was made to have you. We were made for each other. Do you understand?" "No, Miss Wolf, no, I'm just a silly hare." "We are meant to be together, you and I. We are not two things, we are one thing that has not happened yet. We are an ending. This is your purpose. Do you understand, little bunny?" The wolf's paw lifted from his neck just far enough to roll him onto his back, then settled back down. The needles shifted around him, poking and sticking but missing his eyes. Right as his thumping heart escaped the pines a new sharp replaced them. Now it was the wolf's claw threatening to burst his chest. He remembered again his leverethood, the claw thick and dull compared to the needle. Her gold eye, too, made him think of the band that wrapped around one of the tree-standing things' slender front toes. It transfixed him. He remembered how it felt to be caught by those things and how it felt to be held. The wolf's nose brushed his. His pink eyes were open wide and staring like a white hare's do. He knew if they closed he'd see the same golden ring in the center of his vision and the same shadow everywhere else. She was so close. His nose twitched, and he felt the wolf's nose snuffle in return. "Do you understand, little bunny? "Yes, Miss Wolf." The hare did not know if he wanted to be eaten or not. He did not know if he wanted to live or if he wanted to die. He stuck his tongue out from under his big front teeth and touched the wolf's cold nose. Her lips parted, and her teeth flashed. His tongue was back between his teeth and his eyes shut tight, his head turning away. She licked him. She licked his neck, and his shoulders, and his ears, and his cheek, and his whiskers. He opened his eyes. The wolf was right there. Her teeth were right there, but she licked his fur, licking the blood and the dust and the needles out of it. Her paw lifted, and the hare did not flee. He stayed still as a stone, even as she put her great maw around his chest and licked his white belly, his white throat. Her teeth touched his skin, but did not pierce it. She did not bite down. Her tongue was cold, and the hare did not run. "Sweet little bunny," she said. The hare could have run, but his legs twitched in the air, and he did not. "You will be my little bunny, my sweet little rabbit, my white belly, my little stomach." "Yes, Miss Wolf," the hare said, and he did not run. She took his small front paws in her mouth, her teeth pressing down just hard enough to feel the bones, and the hare did not pull away. He felt her cold nose, and the brush of her whiskers, and the dampness of her tongue, none of which he saw, all black and lightless but her eye and teeth. She let his paws go, and the hare did not run. Her maw went around his belly again, and his back arched a little. Her teeth pressed into him, but they did not cut. Hesitantly, his tiny hare's tongue groomed the wolf's snout. He licked her black fur, and her golden eye looked right through him to the back of his eyes where the reflection of her light shone. He heard another swish of a tail, and she closed her eye and nuzzled her great nose against his. "Sweet, silly little bunny," the wolf said. "My sweet, silly little bunny." She lapped his throat, and he shivered, and her tongue traveled down. She licked his belly, and his tail, and she pressed her nose between his legs and sniffed. The hare's hind legs twitched in the air. "Have you mothered any kits of your own, bunny?" "N-no, Miss Wolf, no leverets of my own." "Did you ever lay with a doe in the grass, sweet bunny?" "A-a time or two, Miss, when the moon was right and the greens were fresh. N-never made no litters with them, though. Don't think I'm built quite right." "Is that a kind of bunny that is? One not built for making more? Is that how the Soil made you, little stomach?" "S-suppose it must be, Miss." "What a beautiful way the Mother has chosen for us, then. A purpose made for each other, little bunny." "Miss Wolf," the hare started, and his words caught. "Tell me, silly bunny." "Miss Wolf," and his legs kicked in the air. "I-I feel a certain way about laying with you, Miss. A way I haven't ever felt before. Like I'm full of feathers. Like I've got the sun in my tummy." "Such a sweet little bunny. Tell me how that makes you feel. Tell me how it feels to think about laying under an old she." "I-it makes me feel warm, Miss, and safe, like I'm under the Soil and the Soil is protecting me. Makes me feel like I'm home, Miss. Like I'm home and I'll never have to leave, and that's the best feeling." "You've had an awful day, haven't you, silly bunny?" "It's been a lot, Miss Wolf. Been a lot." "You're a funny little bunny. A brave, silly little bunny. You have a strange sort of courage, little bunny. A stupid sort of courage." "Thank you, Miss Wolf." "Do you want me to be gentle with you, little bunny? Tell me how you want it, bunny. Tell me how you want to become together." "Y-you'll laugh at me, Miss." "I'm already laughing at you, silly bunny. I've been laughing at you since you came here." "I-I want it like we was in love, Miss Wolf." "And how is that? What will it be like for us to be in love?" "It'll last. Not so quick and painless. Happening like we was in love, Miss, it'll be a slow thing, like all the predators of the world have gone away and the sun's not gonna rise and the grass'll never stop growing." "Is that how the bunnies make more, little bunny? Like the woods have forgotten you and will never make winter again?" "Not at all, Miss. Rabbits are made for short springtimes." The wolf's nose pushed between the hare's legs again. He was wet and warm and trembling. The hare could hear his blood moving. He felt his ears shift in the dirt, his parts twitching and jumping for every touch of the wolf's, while still none ran. "How is it bitches make more, Miss?" the hare asked. He heard her tail swish. Her eye focused on his. He looked back into her light. "We mate for the moon, little hare. We match steps and move side by side, and we play struggle against our strengths. We dance and we do closeness." The wolf licked back up to his heart, setting his chin on her snout. "We nuzzle and we rest our maws on our mate's backs." "Golly…" the hare said. "Do you know how that makes me feel, silly bunny? When you say something so bold and so naughty to me? How does it make an old woman feel, hearing a handsome little bunny like you talk about things like that?" "Miss Wolf," he squeaked. "Yes, sweet, silly little bunny?" "D-do you want me, Miss Wolf?" "I will always want you, my silly, brave, pretty, little bunny. I am made to want, and things like you are made to be had." "Would you have me, Miss Wolf?" "Like a mate, white hare?" "Yes, Miss Wolf. Like we was in love."