It's A Hoot (mxm)

Chapter 23

A warmth that relaxed him, was pressed against his chest. A smell that made him want to coo as he buried his nose further into a mop of soft tufts. They brushed against his skin and tickled his face, but he was too comfortable to move. His mind was barely awake, distant and adrift. A heavy sleep laden fog hung over it and all he could do, and proudly so, was snuggle the warm bundle in his arms. It was small enough that he could envelope it and at his prompting it nuzzled into him.

Comfortable and relaxed, there wasn't much more he wanted at that moment. Something was odd, though. It prickled at the back of his mind, starting as a spark and slowly engulfing him as it turned into a flame. The warm bundle. It was comforting, but it wasn't there when he'd gone to sleep.

Slowly stirring awake, he felt the fog drifting from his mind. His eyes fluttered open and landed on a red fluffy head.
He pulled back enough to look at the pale, freckled face of a small boy. He was relaxed and sleeping soundly.
There was something familiar about his scent, though he'd never seen the boy before. He couldn't have been any older than nine or ten. His cute button nose, and though his eyes were closed, he knew they were big and round. He could imagine them open wide and sparkling full of wonder.
He gently brushed a thick strand of hair from the boy's rosy cheeks, causing him to stir slightly. A soft muted sound left the boy's lips and that's when it dawned on him.
It was the rabbit.

He smiled and settled in, pulling the blankets up around them. It warmed him that the rabbit trusted him enough to shift in his arms. According to the boys, this would be the first time he'd shifted since Pop's found him.
He rubbed soothing circles on the boy's back as he pondered his predicament. He couldn't help himself when it came to the cute little boy in his arms. He wanted to know what had happened to him. Why he was all alone. Rabbit shifters rarely had only one child. Twins and triplets were more common and what about his parents?
He sucked in a deep breath and curled his arms tighter. Being scared and alone. He could imagine what the boy felt.
He swallowed hard. He knew what the boy felt.

The faint hint of a haunted memory pricked at the back of his mind. Alone. Scared. So much darkness curling around him. His blood pounded in his ears, drowning out the sounds of the boy's steady breathing.

"Please don't leave me, Pappa." He whispered to the dark, reaching for the much larger, calloused hand. He just wanted to grasp it. He wanted to feel the warmth and security it offered.
The hand brushed over his palm and instead, cupped his cheek. The man bent down in front of him, his face a blur, all except those ebony eyes, forever burned in his memory.
"Everything's going to be okay, little owlet." The man brushed his thumb under his eye and he felt a wave of sadness from him. "I need you to be brave. You have to go on without me, but I'll be right behind you, okay?"
No. He wanted to protest, but he knew the urgency in the man's eyes was real. He had to go. The man would follow. He would.
The man bent closer to him and kissed the top of his head. "Fly, little one," He whispered out in a single breath. "You are safe in the dark."
He gave him a little push and he shifted, watching the world around him appear to grow so much bigger.
The man beckoned for him to go, turning away from him so that all he could see were his broad shoulders.
His pappa would protect him from the coming danger. He didn't know what the danger was, but he knew it took his mother away, now he feared it would also take his father. However, his words rang in his head and he had to go. He had to.
He flapped his wings, but he could not fly properly, so he scampered across the ground, turning his head to look back over his wings.
His pappa still stood there, ready to face the enemy.

He knew what would come next, the memory became jumbled as the images of his pappa became distorted... Or was it that his father's body became twisted and unrecognizable? He couldn't remember how and he would, perhaps, never know why. He was too little to know what was going on. He could only vaguely recall his birth parents on that dark day. Somehow he had escaped the same horrible fate they fell to.