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Mara saw the light on in the main kitchen and opened the door. "I thought I'd find you here," she said as the patterns on her fur whirled in pleasure. "It's after midnight, you know."
Hannibal looked up from his wok. "Ah, Mara. Just fixing up a late night snack. Lord Famine might be working late, or the guards might need a little pick-me-up."
"So kind of you," she said softly, her eyes slightly unfocused. "Now, you're not preaching to the breakfast again, are you?" she chided gently.
Nervous rustles came from several cages in a dark corner. "Oh no," Hannibal assured her. "Sammael told me not too. Says it makes them taste a little gamey."
She nodded slowly. "They say... you've been very helpful in the kitchen," she replied, sounding pleased.
"My pleasure to serve," he said happily.
"And helping with our converts..."
"Always glad to have new members of the Family." He sighed. "A pity about Twist."
"It was... ordained. And you're also singing in the choir."
<grinchygrin> "I never knew I could sing so well."
"And working with the squirrels!" she continued dreamily. "So amazing. Something about flame throwers I hear. How is that going?"
Hannibal quickly chopped up some vegetables. "Quite well. The burns are superficial and the fur will grow back in a few weeks."
"You can relax now," Mara said gently.
"I'm never more relaxed than when I'm in the kitchen!" he proclaimed, "I get to play with fire and sharp things."
"That's not quite what I mean. Like most converts, my dearest Hannibal, you are doing as much as you can to deny your old life... and fit in with your new life. You've filled up every bit of your waking moments trying to be the best wyrmbunny that you can be. And like most who are welcomed by Inle's embrace... you're over doing it. You're Family now, and We will always Love You. You don't have to keep proving it."
Hannibal pondered these words. "I guess... I guess I have been trying too hard, haven't I?" He added spices to the mix.
"And you've become very attached to me. It's not that I mind," Mara said gently, "but converts often become over-attached to one wyrmbunny, especial their first contact."
He paused in mid-stir. "But... " he whispered, "you know... you *know* how I burn." He glanced at the fire and stirred the contents of the wok. The odor of seared flesh rose into the air. "You know."
"Yes. You have the sweetest dreams," she said with half closed eyes. "But we all burn in some way," Mara replied. "You've been very attached to me, perhaps too much so. It's not that I don't like you, but you should see other buns."
"Oh." He turned away and stirred up his mixture.
"Why don't you go to the Fudd Halloween party at Fort Williams?" Mara suggested, "Heartwyrm's going and she could use company. She's new to being a bunny... of any type and she really shouldn't go alone." She touched him gently with her nose. "Speak to her of your dreams," she whispered, "Fire and Death. Such beauty should be shared with all who can appreciate them."
Hannibal looked into the distance. "And she plays the Theremin so well," he said quietly. Then he turned back to her, his face composed. "You have asked," and he spread his paws wide, "how could I refuse?"
"What a gentlebun you are, my general," she replied and sniffed the air. "I hope you made a lot of... what ever it is." She lazily licked a fang. "It smells delightful."
Hannibal laughed and some of his tension eased. "Once again, I have made enough for six."
"Why don't you take a serving or two to Heartwyrm," Mara suggested slowly, "I'll take a serving for myself, and have the rest to delivered Lord Famine."
He bowed grandly to her and split the hot stir-fry into carrying containers. "I'll be back to clean the wok," he said and <grinch>nuzzled her. "Thank you, Mara," And he hopped out the door.
[/s]
[ooc - with thanks to Andrew for allowing me to borrow Mara.]
Originally published on alt.devilbunnies October 25, 2002.