Sweet!

Eyes linger on his tail and his ears as they move further into his home. They look good, it makes her wish she knew how to do the same. Having a bunny tail and ears would be so cute... But she snaps from it as he tells her where to sit. "Oh-- okay!" And so she does, even if she fears the worst looking at it. Carefully, delicately almost, Bonnie sits herself on the edge of the chair with her back straightened, hands in her lap, and legs crossed at the ankles. She's keeping as much of her weight in check as she can, but still smiles and waves a hand. "Oh no, that's okay! I'm not really hungry, and I'd hate for you to go through all the trouble. It's sweet of you to offer, though..!" Surely he had misspoke, right? He had chicken, not chickens? The way he said it brought mental images she'd rather not think about, regarding the feathery little ladies outside.

UNPROMPTED. // @bunsdreamworld

“You should be freaked out.” The detective states rather intensely, normally brown eyes swallowed by shades of swirling pink and purple. They’re glowing in an almost unnatural way.

"I-I, uhm--" She stammers, hands raising to her chest as if to protect herself. The man's glasses are still delicately held in her fingers. "Uh... okay..? I don't really know anyone close to me that would have something like that going on, though, hahah..." Maybe Bunni? But there's no way anyone would want her dead.

@bunsdreamworld // Unprompted!

He looks down at the young woman who has approached his home and had the courage to knock on his door. He recognizes her. One of those youngins that came out to this area of the woods before on some 'investigation' tomfoolery. They'd left him be after giving him a way to get in contact after finding out he was the one people were griping about. So why the hell did she come back?

But those were good excuses as any to go check up on her new friend! Especially since it's getting so cold out that it's started to snow.

Mean Sentences, Vol. 13

(Mean sentences from various sources. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"I hate the bones of you. I genuinely wish you and yours nothing but ill."

"You know what I'm wondering? What do you tell yourself at night when you lay your head down that allows you to wake up in the morning pretending that you're not the bad guy?"

"When you speak, I feel like it's the Devil talking."

"Honestly? I think I'd rather stick my dick in a blender."

"I've come to a conclusion: I don't like you."

"You are tough to be a friend to."

"You do a good job of hiding it, and I suppose most folk don't see it, but honestly? You're the angriest man I have ever known."

"You've got ice-cold water running through your veins."

"For someone with no spine, you've sure got a lot of balls."

"I hope you donated your body to science so doctors can study how big a bitch you are!"

"Do you even know when you're lying anymore, or is it just like blinking?"

"You had a choice. You just chose wrong."

"You are a violent man. You have left a trail of dead behind you."

"Do you believe anything you say?"

"Look, it's nice that you have a hobby, but I really don't care to hear about this."

"Drive your polluted soul back to the city where it belongs."

"Sometimes I think the Devil's bile runs in your veins!"

"Every now and then, you say something that makes me think you're smart, and then I look at you and that thought fades."

"You'll take your approval anywhere you can find it, won't you?"

"Is there anything else you screwed up today?"

"I didn't think you could get any more boring, and yet here we are."

"Look at me and know that I am not your friend."

"Do you know how stupid you look?"

"You don't know what you are, and you're looking for the world to tell you. You reek of desperation."

"In the right light, you could almost be considered attractive."

"Don't think that you deserve it. You don't deserve it, and you never will."

"I've heard a lot of rumours about you, all of them bad."

"I'd just about forgot how much I hate the sound of your voice!"

"How can you live with yourself?"

They laugh, before nudging her shoulder with a pat of their hand. "Don't worry, I knew what you meant. A hi from you would be quite the honor~." The hand ghosts to squeeze her shoulder instead before it drops away entirely. With how greased they are, there's a tiny dirt-smudge left in their wake on her powder pink dress. They consider trying the tongue wetting trick to wipe it off--- but honestly they'd probably just make it worse.

"Artair like Artery without the y." They beam with a bright and toothy smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Bonnie. And a double pleasure if you're coming bearing gifts of pie!" His still-smudged hand snakes that offered tin, and metal fingers slide a pair of chopsticks from an interior slot on his arm. He's quick to use them to draw out a slice of pie, and shove the whole thing into his mouth, in a messy loss of sugar and apples to the weedy grass they're standing in.

"Ar..tair." She repeats the name slow, as if committing it and its pronunciation to memory. "The pleasure's all mine, really." Gaze follows as they take the pie and then... produce chopsticks from inside of their prosthetic arm? And then cut and eat an entire slice of pie with the chopsticks they just got from inside their arm? Dazed by the display and wondering if she's taken psychic damage or if she's impressed (maybe both?) She blinks a few times when they offer the pie to her now. "Oh! Uh, no, no thank you." She shakes her head, palms raising ever so slightly in front of her. "I already ate, so I guess you'll just have to save what you can't eat for later, huh? Thank you though, it's a sweet offer."

“Yer damn right I am!” Butch retorts in one heavy breath, a grunt escaping him soon after. “Hnrggh, this’s—this’s prob’ly th’ lightest load ah’ve ever carried t’a farm.” He lies through his teeth, his breath hitching in his throat as he tries to disguise the fact that he’s already out of breath.

“Tch… t-that sounds like Adeline l’right. N-Not that we needed th’ help, a’course. I think she jus’ ‘njoys givin’ ‘erself more t’worry ’bout.” He attempts to shrug his shoulders but is unable to manage with the load taking up his arms. “Reckon I can’t complain, though… s’pecially with th’ ‘mount’f supplies they go through at th’ inn. Damn tourists.” Sure, making money was nice but he was admittedly a bit territorial.

"Hm? Oh, well, ah… I jus’ figure with where yer headed an’ all… not t’ mention, yer built like an ox.” It could easily be taken as an insult but it’s one of the highest compliments in his book. Butch continues to pace himself as he walks, huffing here and there when he needs to let out excess air he’s been holding in but for the most part, their conversation is taking his mind off of the weight.

It's-- it's fine. He's not saying anything that's untrue, after all. And he is being kind by helping her out. Besides, sometimes being built like an ox just meant you looked strong, right? Except... it feels different, following the weight thing. She's just anxious, it's fine.

"Well... you do look pretty strong. Sorry, I shouldn't have asked. I'm sure you can handle it." Her head never really raises, and she certainly doesn't look at him again.

“Hrghh… hah! I-I don’—mind… really.” He insists, readjusting the lumpy load. It almost felt like a bag of damn rocks considering how solid the items inside felt but that cant be, surely.

“Y-Yer farm? Oh, I had… a feelin’ ya’ll were a farm gal.” He replies, attempting to steady his breathing as he speaks which makes his words come out a bit more uneven than he would have liked. Glancing over towards the direction she was headed, South, he finds that it’s almost familiar. It was the same path he had taken when requesting some supplies from that other farmer, wasn’t it? They couldn’t have lived on the same plot, could they have?

Relieved of the weight she takes a moment to double over herself, lifting the bottom of the apron laid over her dress to dab a bit of sweat off of her face.