RABBIT LEGEND

“What are you willing to pay for him?” Ravio said, setting the hat in his lap and scratching a finger down the pink rabbit’s back.

One of Legend’s hind legs kicked out, and he sniffled, nose wiggling, ears flicking. He shifted, snuggling deeper into the hat.

Four crossed his arms across his chest. “Selling people is illegal; you know that, yeah?”

“Is he a person?” Ravio blinked his wide, green eyes. There was a spark of mischief to them. “All I see is a bunny.”

Hyrule stepped forward, uncaring for personal space, and brushed his fingers through plush, deep rabbit fur. It parted like strands of silk between his knuckles, flowing over and beneath his skin like water that didn’t cling so tightly. It was cold enough on the surface to soothe the heated aches in his palms.

“I don’t have any money,” he told the merchant with false sadness and bit of a pout.

“Shame,” Ravio said with a dramatic sigh, “I guess I’m just stuck with him.”

The rabbit huffed and shifted, tucking his nose closer to his legs and curling tighter into a ball.

They had entered the house with scraped knees and blood welling underneath bandages, hosting split lips and knuckles and hearts. A darkening bruise blossomed across the lower half of Four’s chin, a gash glimmered on Hyrule’s forehead, but they smiled and laughed and dug chairs out from underneath dust.

“You wouldn’t really sell him to us, would you?” Four said later while the storm outside raged against the house. Hyrule was leaning against his side, eyes closed, cheek on his shoulder.

Ravio hummed, looking down at the rabbit still in his massive mask. He traced the line of Legend’s spine with a finger, laughed when a small nose wiggled in sleepy pleasure. “I’m willing to cut you a deal,” he said. “Sixty rupees. Family price. Seventy percent off.”