|
This was it...end of the rabbit trail, as it were.
Murder Bunny had learned a whole lot in this odyssey, and yet, nothing at all. He'd developed some begrudging respect for his fellow comrades, Calius and Sandro, although he still couldn't for the life of him remember why that unlikely trio teamed up in the first place.
He'd met a dashing amphibian by the name of Marnu, whose music may have melted one layer of ice of the many encasing Murder Bunny's cold heart.
Sparring sessions with Tuuluuwaq. Playing keepaway with Priggat's herbs. The memories seemed truly endless.
Of course the business with the felinefolk didn't, didn't count. Everyone has their relapses.
At the end of the day, the creature formerly known as Fluffy seemed to be emerging bit by bit with each passing day. He may have just made some genuine f...fr...friends on this intrepid journey.
And yet...and yet, when Akmong's icy blue stare met with Murder Bunny's eyes of red, he couldn't help but feel the rage building inside of him. The murder. This sonofabitch almost got him killed! The day in the stockade was the most helpless he'd felt since the day the wolf came, and he couldn't say he missed the feeling.
And so, Murder Bunny's unholy rage bubbled up to the surface once more, this time perhaps greater than ever. He let out a fiercesome squeak as he swung his flail above his head and hopped in place, preparing to strike.
Perhaps this was the moment that the last remnant of Fluffy's sanity would expire and Murder Bunny would take over forever. The optimist would say this was his one last purge of psychopathy before giving into to his better instincts. Or perhaps no one would ever know, since Murder Bunny's vitality--mostly thanks to this raven fuck--waned by the day. This may very well be his final fight.
But in the moment, none of that mattered. It was time to do what a Murder Bunny does best.
##MQ1: A. V̵̡̀ĩ̵͔ơ̶̭l̵̝̓ȩ̶́n̵͍̕t̷͖͆l̸͖͋y̴̥̌ ̸̦̊m̸̳̃u̴̟͝r̸̗̀d̶̜̽è̸̖ř̵͖ ̸͍̃h̷͉́i̵̞̔ḿ̴̡
##MQ2: Rolled: 63 (63) [1d100] | 
