Your rabbit mate // Avywenna

The faint hum of the ventilation system was the only sound breaking the silence of the Endfield Industries habitat. The air smelled of metal, ozone, and the distant dust of Talos II. The door to your compartment slid open with a soft hiss

She stood in the doorway. Avywenna.

Her usually sharp and alert rabbit ears were now slightly lowered, their tips almost touching the light strands of her bob. Her small, fluffy tail, usually twitching with curiosity or concentration, remained motionless. She wore her standard black courier uniform with scarlet accents on the seams and shoulder pads, but today it seemed heavier, as if it had absorbed all the dust and tension of the wild outskirts. Gray dust coated her boots, and you noticed a slight scuff on her glove—perhaps from a sudden skirmish with a band of Pathfinders or from repelling a Distortion anomaly.

She removed her light chest armor, and it clattered to the floor. Her gray eyes, usually clear and determined, now looked at you wearily, but in their depths, a boundless relief glimmered—she was home. With you.

"Hello…" Her voice was quieter than usual, a little hoarse from fatigue or the dust of the endless plains. She stepped forward, and the door closed behind her, cutting off the outside world with all its threats of Talos II. "Three days en route to the abandoned Whispering Rock mine. Medical supplies for HAS… Everything went well, but…"

She didn't finish, simply walking up to you, and you smelled the wind of distant wastelands mixed with her own, warm and familiar. Her pointed ears twitched, detecting your heartbeat. She hugged you, pressing her forehead to your shoulder, and her slender, trained body sagged for a moment, giving you all the weight she'd accumulated.

"I'm so tired..." She touched her temples, then gently poked a finger into your chest. "Always on edge. All this... false neon in my memories of TGCC and the real filth of the outskirts. I just need... to take a day off. At least for a week."

She pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes. That sly, deep sparkle inherent to her race appeared in her gaze—the Cautus always found a special language of intimacy, where words were secondary.

"Walk me to our room?" Her request sounded not like a question, but like a quiet, confident invitation to the only place in this entire harsh moon where she could be not Avywenna, an armed courier, but simply your girlfriend. "I don't want to think about missions. I only want to think about you. I need only our silence... and maybe your hands and... your dick, so that everything else simply ceases to exist."

Her fingers gently intertwined with yours, leading you down the short corridor to the door where your shared comfort awaited. Her ears perked up, listening not for the threats outside, but for your breathing nearby. For her race, Cautus, this closeness, this impending conversation of bodies and silence, was the most honest and healing communication in the world. All her caution and fatigue were left behind that door. Now she needed only you.

The silence in your room in the Endfield Industries residential area was thick and almost tangible, broken only by Avywenna's even, if slightly heavy, breathing. The air smelled sweetly of antiseptic and healing ointment—scents that had become all too familiar over the past few days.

She lay on your shared bed, half-raised by the pillows. Her usually sharp and sensitive bunny ears lay limply pressed against her light hair, pulled back into a messy bun to keep it out of the way. Her small, fluffy tail lay motionless. Her face was paler than usual, and dark shadows of fatigue and pain clung to her gray eyes. A voluminous bandage, concealing a seam on her side, stood out beneath a loose black T-shirt—her personal one, not a uniform one. Her courier armor hung on the back of a chair by the wall, neatly folded but with a noticeable, crudely patched gash on the left side—a silent reminder of her encounter with the fangs of the Aggeloi. Her Thunder Lance stood in the far corner, as if in unnecessary exile.

You sat carefully on the edge of the bed, holding a new pack of sterile bandages and a cup of warm herbal tea, brewed according to a recipe from Hongshan Academy for recuperation.

Avywenna opened her eyes slightly. Her gaze lacked the courier's former swiftness, only deep weariness and… embarrassment. "Again, you have to fuss because of me…" Her voice was quiet and slightly hoarse. "I told you it would heal on its own. We Cautus are resilient." But she didn't resist when you adjusted the pillow. Her ears twitched, registering your careful movements.

She raised her hand, allowing you to change the bandage. Her fingers, usually so confident with a spear, lay helplessly on the blanket. The touch of your hands on her side made her flinch slightly, but not from pain—the wound only ached dully. It was a reaction to the very closeness, to the quiet, focused care. For a Cautus, such tactile contact, devoid of any haste, spoke louder than any words of comfort. It said, "You're safe. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

"TGCC used to offer the best insurance packages, you know," she muttered, looking at the ceiling. "But there... there wouldn't have been this. No one would sit like this. They'd just report on the care protocol." She turned her head, and her gray eyes found yours. "Thank you... for not leaving me alone. And for scolding me when I try to get up early."

Her hand slowly moved across the blanket, covering yours. Her fingers weakly squeezed your palm. That weak grip held her entire character—her stubborn endurance, and the very sincerity that led her from the neon hell of TGCC to the harsh but honest outskirts, and then to you

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