(45) A Bunny's Advice.

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"........,"  

I stalked through the manor, the mask a constant, stifling presence on my face.

Its smooth, cool surface offered no comfort, only a chilling reminder of my condition.

Staying cooped up inside wouldn't help Penelope, and the thought gnawed at me.

Which means, I am stuck.

Stuck in this body.

Should I attempt some advances...?

The servants scattered like frightened birds as I approached, their wary glances scraping against my raw nerves. 

They remembered all too well the monster I used to be.

The monster he used to be.

And they all seemed to catch on my sour mood.

My legs led me to the gardens.

The sound of tinkling laughter, a joyous melody that now felt foreign to these halls, drew me closer.

Peeking around the corner, I saw Bun-Bun basking in the sun, a picture of contentment, with Hans fussing over him.

Hans, a whirlwind of manic energy in a spotless butler's uniform, fussed over Bun-Bun like a mother hen with her chick.

He knelt before the bunny, his voice brimming with an enthusiasm that seemed out of place in the manor.

"Now, let me see that little paw, bunny bun."

Hans chirped, his bright eyes sparkling. 

Bun-Bun, nestled in a bed of soft flowers, thumped a foot against Hans' finger. 

Hans chuckled, his laughter echoing in the still air. 

"........," 

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