Rhubarb

Ardent waves in the distance end up as brisk foam around the ankles. And more than that, the bunnies roaming the island live in beautiful garden villages, something about their domesticated ancestors maybe.

Regardless, that is the aesthetic they chose. Yesterday or a thousand years ago matters not, their ears are tall and they're cute and friendly with lives of their very own. And aurean sunsets are better enjoyed with a carrot anyway.

One such pretty thing bops a head of hair with a carrot, and the head of hair heaves up seawater while lying on the sand by the shore in the evening. Waters brought in a castaway, runaway, washed up a thing for the bunnies perhaps, who's to say.

Humans they're called and the bunnies like to snuggle up to them and get handfed carrots too, as far as the old stories in the village go anyway. The pretty thing was born sick and then the illness faded and left in its stead green eyes and blood red lips, thus her name was chosen to be Rhubarb.

"Rhubarb."

Muffled by her long scarf which Rhubarb pulls up over her lips a little, not shy at all nope, her voice is cute still, everyone can tell. She tilts her head to one side then the other, ears flop here and floop there. The human's a curious thing she thinks. Bonk another careless carrot wallop to rouse the human now without waterlogged lungs.

"Human, okay now?"

She points a thumb over her shoulder, the rise of a dune and what's behind the deep green trees growing right by the beach, some roots show in the sand.

"Village there, house with green roof, carrot cake. Rhubarb and human, hm? Stay with Rhubarb or crawl back underwater."

She scoffs and it's very cute. Was that a joke from this bizarre cute icy bunny? She thinks it was funny, like that time Mascarpone bonked Cinnamon over the head with the year's biggest carrot and it snapped in half. The carrot that is, not Cinnamon's head. That was funny to Rhubarb too.

Carrot blade slung over the shoulder of a paragon cast in stone, bleeding fresh water into the fountain below. The breeze is honeyed with spring warmth and Rhubarb pulls her scarf down from her mouth. Sitting on the edge of the fountain, chrysanthemums and cherry blossoms all around, in middle of the square under the noon's sun. Vibrance in voices of bunnies going about their day, Chocolat just opened her bakery a little bit ago off on one side of the square and the scent of pastries is more than pleasant.

The human's hers, Rhubarb decided a while ago, she can't explain the rush of blood whenever she's with the human who's sitting beside her now. She looks off and clenches her hand into a fist before placing her palm back down on the stone. Her hand feels warm, warm from staying close, it's certain.

"Look. Human..."

She murmurs before her hand hops over on the fountain's edge they're sitting on and lands on the human's. Rhubarb grips the hand with awkward strength, warmer than before. She keeps staring straight ahead, hand on hand, bound in a silver silk ribbon of the moment's sweetness. What the hell is even all this?

Stray fireflies from a turned over lantern in an alley hover over to the two turned into one, spinning around and dancing, between Rhubarb's ears and around the human like a gilded crown or a halo. After all, handholding for the first time feels very very nice.

Every year, when everything glitters under cold powder and the forests shine at night, a troupe in a strange steamboat arrives on the island. Jesters from a strange place, a troupe of bunnygirls in vibrant attires, hopping and dancing and singing as they settle by the village for a couple of weeks. Within a morning turning to evening, contraptions and stalls and games and treats rise in a clearing just outside the village, something called the 'Winter Wonderland' amusement park, a festival that empties out the village every day.

An off day for a day off. Guardians keep patrol even during festivities, and Rhubarb would take on every shift available every year, there's never been anything in the park for her. A lone bunny could only find annoyance in the loud cheer and affection of the villagers who'd enjoy the festivities with those most precious to them.

Then, a human washed up on the shore and Rhubarb found a person who's special to her. The other guardians were eager to snatch up all of her shifts and all but force her to enjoy the festival with the one in her heart, her fondness for her human is obvious to everyone.

In the morning, under the twinkling of snowfall slowdancing down from the sky, a hand squeezes a wrist, snowflakes land on her ears and hair, scarf over her nose. The bright lights and ever-joyful hosts by each stall and machine are a lot. Rhubarb has dragged her human past the gates, where the first thing seen is a corridor of various festive stalls set up between the snowy party with the rides in the distance.

"You pick where first." She murmurs and digs into her pocket, pulling out a small, cute, carved wooden heart with a bunny engraving on it before jabbing it into the human's other hand.

"Gift. For you... Saw others give gifts when it snows. Throw away if it's bad."

A bunnygirl in funny garb dances by the first stall, her cute ritual of making cotton candy in the shapes of oversized carrots and cute animals that makes the children giggle.

"Sweet stuff first? Get sugar crash and leave early, no need for ferris wheel ride when it gets dark then... And you'll look cute holding silly thing." Rhubarb slides her hand down from the wrist she's holding to slip her fingers between her human's, tight.

Dancing lights of noctilucent clouds on the surface of the lake, fireflies replace stars in the visage and the rickety boat ripples the water with faint pulsing. From the treeline, angels dance and sing, or the wildlife of the island, night birds with black wings.

Two long branches of the island's special wood with resilient strings and bait at the end. A cute bunny who's never shared the meditation of night fishing with anyone until now.

Rhubarb kicks open a small chest on the boat.

"Brought flasks. For human. Carrot wine for me, for you too maybe. Human stomachs too delicate? Fruit juice too. Pastries from Chocolat's bakery..." She huffs and looks away, why is being with your special person so difficult at times?

"After first fish only, hm?" She looks back at the apparition opposite of her and jabs the second fishing rod forward without much thought, hitting tender flesh that's very much human.

"Human... Knowledge about fishing? Don't wanna waste night teaching about fish... Better learn quick... You're sleeping with them otherwise."