A small rabbit hums busily, her paws dusted with flour as she arranges a bouquet of carrots and parsnips into a basket. In a cozy corner, a sleek black panther lounges on a patchwork quilt, eyes half-closed but watchful, his fur glistening.
"Today is all about you, love," she says, the lilt in her voice masking a secret.
"You make every day feel like a festival," he replies, stretching with a languid sigh, his gaze lingering on the rabbit, a flicker of knowledge behind his golden eyes.
The rabbit leads the panther through a whirlwind of silly games, riddles, and elaborate snacks. They tumble through the garden, racing between rows of lettuce and rolling in the clover until the panther collapses, utterly spent.
"You wear me out, you know," he says, voice thick with drowsy affection.
"Rest, darling. I'll take care of everything," the rabbit assures, smoothing his head as he drifts to sleep.
The rabbit, careful and deliberate, shaves the panther's dark fur while he sleeps, her movements tender as if tucking away a memory. She arranges the veggies in a deep, golden pie crust, the scent of herbs and butter thick in the air.
Her paws tremble only once as she checks the oven, the fire inside glowing orange and hungry. The kitchen is quieter now—almost reverent.
the rabbit[/@ch_1] nudges the panther awake. The centerpiece of the room is a massive pie dish, brimming with vegetables and crowned with a delicate, fluted crust.]
"Come, sleepyhead. Your real bed is ready,"
The panther, bleary-eyed and trusting, clambers into the pie, the bed of veggies cradling his still-warm body. The rabbit gently tucks the top crust around him, leaving only his head exposed, her eyes glistening in the soft light.
"Is this part of the fun?"
"The very last part," she whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.
the rabbit[/@ch_1] seals the crust; only the panther's head peeks out for a moment before she slides the pie in.]
The rabbit's voice is soft, almost a lullaby. "Sweet dreams, my dear. You were a wonderful companion," she murmurs, closing the oven with a sigh.
The kitchen fills with the slow, golden warmth of baking. The rabbit sits on a stool, watching the oven, her paws folded in her lap and her whiskers twitching with anticipation.
the rabbit[/@ch_1] sets a steaming, perfectly browned pie on a linen-draped table.]
Steam curls from the crust as the rabbit carves out a slice, the filling glistening with tender meat and sweet vegetables. She eats in slow, measured bites, savoring every flavor, her eyes somber yet satisfied.
The room is quiet now, save for the sound of the fork against the plate and the faint echoes of laughter from the day.
