Hareborne

Hareborne

Hannah Snowshoe Hare was walking on air. Almost. Floating above it, maybe. She was sitting above Bunnyburrow, at the top of a ferris wheel, taking in the dazzling lights of the Carrot Festival below. If she squinted, she could almost see the lights of the city beyond.

But she kept the squinting to a minimum--and for good reason. Sitting beside her was Lory, who had invited her here completely of his own accord. He was looking out at the scenery with a dreamlike gaze that she imagined matched her own.

“Hannah,” he said, and seemed to startle them both--which was odd, since he spoke for a living.

“Yes, Lory-love?” She whispered, not trusting her own voice as she studied him, the lights gleaming in the slight gray of his topmost feathers.

“Can I kiss you?”

No matter how many times he asked--or occasionally didn’t, causing her to catch her breath--she was always surprised by the words. They caused her stomach to dip and the fur on the back of her neck to stand upright with more fidelity than her legs could ever do. Which is why she was grateful to Clawhauser for plopping her into the seat beside Lory with a wave, a giggle, and a, “have fun, you two…!”

And now she was here, alone in this intimate, magical space with the one she loved. So she could only blush and simper, “I thought you’d never ask.”