Marked. Forever. Not too painful. Found my name in a fantasy book: Sheriff Willidrud Raganhildis was she so called. Funny, that.
Bunnies jumping around on the floor searching for baked goods with raisins. Mild nose bumps.
In the land of the itching cream is king. Last day, last evening meal, last night, first shared insomnia. Talk about love and the soft hop-hop of bunnies reaches your ears instantly.
"Such people lack intellectual nuance."
One great insult.
The bunnies demanded outside pen time at their usual hour. Only I and them awake. Feeding time must wait.
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