♠ 𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕕𝕠𝕞 𝕆𝕗 𝕊𝕡𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕤 ♠

Cₕₐₚₜₑᵣ ₙᵢₙₑ: ₐ ₗₑₐd fₒᵣ yₒᵤ ₐₙd yₒᵤᵣ ᵣₐbbᵢₜ, yₒᵤₙg ₒₙₑ

// Still recovering from last chapter's emotional story at the end? There'll be some more at the end of every chapter from  now until I run out of stories for you. Plus, Pigeon's Pickles is back for this chapter, so enjoy it.

Wilbur sat down at the table in his hotel room, Pigeon sitting right across him, holding Pickles in her arms . The rabbit was munching down on so,e celery.

"You finally brought me some food. It's amazing, I can't lie. But why are you holding a rabbit in your arms now? Did I miss something? Don't tell me you stopped someone from shooting it." Wilbur rolled his eyes.

"No, actually. Fundy found it and gave it to me. He named it Pickles." Pigeon said, gently stroking the rabbit's fur.

"Why not a cat or dog or something? They"re much eas-"

"I already have a jerk of a cat, and, besides, Pickles was a domesticated rabbit left in the forest to rot and die. Poor thing, he's too sweet and innocent to be out there, in the wild, all alone. I'm shocked he's still alive after all this guy's been through. Normally something so traumatizing would make anyone toughen up."

"Have you ever thought that this... thing... is just an extremely kind rabbit, in want of human attention. It's the most likely scen-"

"They don't come this kind, Wilbur. None of the wild ones ever come this kind."

"Fine, fine, whatever you say," Wilbur said, rolling his eyes. He took a bite of chicken. "Jeez. You seem really attached to him. Do you need, like, mental help?"

"Where would I find so,etching like that in a place like this?" She spat.

"True, true."

Silence fell between them. The only noises were Wilbur's chewing, the late night crickets, and the soft snores coming from Pickles.

"Do you want a lead for your rabbit, young one?"

"What?"

"Lead. Want one?"

Pigeon sighed. "Fine. Sure."

Wilbur got up from the table and walked to his suitcase. He pulled out a lead, slightly worn, with bits of fuzzy blue stuff stuck to it. "You can use this if you want," Wilbur said, handing the lead to Pigeon.

"Thank you, Wilbur." Pigeon whispered, trying not to wake up the rabbit.

They sat in silence again. The two seemed to get lost in a tangle of thoughts. By the time checked the clock on the wall, it was already 2:34 AM.

"I really must be going now," Pigeon insisted.

"Oh, well, alright. Happy birthday. Have a good night."

"How'd you kn-"

"Shh." Wilbur said, putting a finger over his lips. "Now let me help you put that lead on your rabbit, alright?"

//Right back into this...

So my first grade teacher was pissed at me the next day. But not, like, a tiny bit. She spent her whole day giving me extra work and making me do all the work for the class. She even took away recess from me to try and make me work, since I also forgot my folder at home. That failed, though, because I was having a breakdown in the cubbies all of recess. The assistant teacher actually stood up for me (and said the only words I ever heard come out of her mouth. She was very quiet. She also offed herself a few years later. I miss her) and got me five minutes of recess, which I spent, drawing a picture of me and Pickles and Rawr and Poppy and a few others. The assistant teacher hung it up in the back of the classroom for me, too.

More next chapter...