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__________________________________ Lagomorphs Copyright © July, 2015, FurryWurry All rights reserved

Chapter 26 -- Afternoon with Singer __________________________________

Jeff spent part of the afternoon washing his clothes. The shower worked well enough for applying soap and water, but some manual effort was needed to get out all of the dirt and sweat. When he finished, blasting them with hot, dry air dried them surprisingly quickly.

"Hey."

He suppressed the obvious quip. As best he could tell, the Rabs didn't use money.

"Hi, Singer. What's up?"

The young Rab leaning in the snug's doorway pretended boredom.

"It's almost time for breakfast. Thought you might be hungry. I'm not, but ...." He shrugged.

Riight. Jeff was sure that the Rab's appetite was as bottomless as that of any other adolescent. It did seem a little early, though. So far he hadn't really spent any time with the teen. Maybe he could get to know him a little better, and maybe learn more about the Rabs from another point of view.

"Yeah. Sure. Just let me get dressed." He pulled on his pants, which were still quite warm. He decided to let the loincloth's flaps hang out where they could be seen.

"Why cover up? It'll be warm out there."

"Well, too much direct sunlight can burn my skin. I don't have fur to protect me like you do, after all."

"Yeah, I guess. Whatever."

The green Eco tee-shirt was slightly cooler than the pants, but its dry warmth felt good -- not like its previous chill clamminess.

"Lead the way!"

The Rab bounded quickly up the passageway. Jeff suppressed a grin as he followed, somewhat more slowly. Not hungry. Uh, huh.

Singer stopped and turned just before they got to the entryway. "Why are you so slow? Comon. I want you to meet my friends."

Aha. Maybe not quite so hungry after all. Wanting to show off the newcomer, was he?

There were five of them waiting just outside, relaxing in the short grass to the right of the entryway, upwind in the gentle breeze. Their backs were toward the sun, so Jeff had to squint a little. He wished he'd packed some sunglasses. They were a stupid thing to forget.

The three does and two bucks seemed to be about Singer's age. Fourteen or fifteen, maybe? They all looked like they still had a lot of growing to do. The breechclouts he could see were from the two closest deasil snugrows: the bucks were from the more distant one, while two of the does were from the closer. He couldn't see the loincloth of the other doe. One of the bucks, skinnier than the his brother, had his head in her lap, smiling up at her as she scratched the base of his ears. His teeth looked a little odd, curved instead of straight.

The sun was still at least a couple of hours from setting and he didn't see any other Rabs around. Hopefully someone was acting as lookout, though. He couldn't bear the thought of a repeat of the morning's events.

"Hi, guys! This is Jeff, the one I told you about. He 'n' my bro are gonna go looking for missing Rabs."

"Really?" The buck getting his ears scratched seemed a bit dubious.

"Really! Tell'm, Jeff." Singer sat down between the two unoccupied sisters.

"Well, I'm lost and a long way from home. Gran'Sir said I can live here if I can find some of the Rabs who've gone missing. Singer's brother and a couple of his friends offered to help. Maybe we won't find them, but I'd like to try."

"That's really brave," one of the Rabs next to Singer said. Her left ear was partially lopped. Jeff thought that made her look especially cute. The buck sitting between them and his brother nodded vigorously and grinned, but didn't say anything.

"So what're your names?" Jeff asked as he sat down in front of them, crossing his legs.

Singer had the grace to look embarrassed. "Sorry, I forgot you didn't know everybody. This is Plants-Asters," as he patted the shoulder of the doe to his right with the lopped ear, "and this is Grows-Flox." He briefly nuzzled and hugged her. "Their sister Harvests-Avens likes Nibbler-of-Grasses a *lot*." He grinned as the third doe gave him a glare, but she kept rubbing Nibbler's ears anyhow. "And the quiet one is Silence-is-Golden. He can't talk. He can hear just fine, though." Silence nodded.

"I'm glad to meet you all. You can call me Jeff."

"What's that mean?" Aster wondered.

"Well, my full name is Jeffrey Benjamin. It means something like 'Traveling-Son-of-the-Right-Hand' but I prefer Jeff."

"OK. Trav, then," Singer said blandly. Jeff gave him a look. "Well, you did travel a long way to get here, didn't you?"

"Yeah. I did. From a long way to the East. I'm lost enough that I don't think I'll ever find my way back." Maybe the tunnels were still open, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to find the opening on the hillside. He should have marked it, but back then he'd thought he could get back to the dig by going up over the caldera's rim. Now he was sure he couldn't. And even if he found the tunnel again, there was no way to know if the cliff collapse was small enough that the research team would be able to dig it out, or get someone who could. Or when that might happen. It'd probably take many days, even if they thought he was trapped behind the rock slide. The Rabs didn't need to know all that, though. Not now, anyhow.

"You really want to live here, in our warren? How come? You aren't anything like us. You're more like the Bare Rabs. Why don't you go live with them?" Nibbler wondered. "Gran'Sir calls them 'worms', too." Singer glared at him. "Well, he does! I heard him when he was with our Mam this morning."

Jeff tried to be diplomatic. "I've never met them. The only Rabs I know are Singer's family, and now you guys. You all seem to be nice folk. Why do you think I'm like the Bare Rabs? Have you seen them? What are they like?"

"None of us have seen any," said Aster, "but I remember Uncle Brash talking about them. He used to go to the other Warrens a lot before he was Taken. The Bares he met didn't have any fur on their bodies, just on their heads, ears and tails. Their does had big bumps on their chests all the time, too, not just when they were nursing. He said they looked really funny. And they wore clothes when they were outside, just like you."

Her description bothered Jeff. He knew there were furless rabbits back home, but there was only one reason he could think of why the Makers might have developed Rabs like that. He hoped he was wrong.

"Well, I haven't met them, not yet, anyhow. Maybe we'll visit them while we're looking for Rabs from here. Some might not come back because they decided to live in other Warrens. Are there others where they might have gone, do you think?"

"Well, Sunny's sire came from the Palomino Warren, didn't he? I think I remember her saying that at one of our practices," Phlox offered. "That's in the other direction, I think."

"Yeah, that's right," Avens agreed. She'd stopped rubbing Nibbles' ears and was resting her hand on his stomach. Jeff could hear him purring. Obviously there was a lot of trust between them. "There's a Spotted Lop Warren, too. We think maybe one of our own sires, way back, might have come from there. That'd explain Asters, anyhow," she grinned. Asters blew her sister a raspberry.

"Hey!" Singer wiped off the spittle that he'd intercepted.

"Do you expect to be gone long?" Phlox asked. "Flower's due pretty soon, isn't she? I bet Sky wants to be back when she kindles. Unless she wants to have some of Gran'Sir's kits, of course."

"She doesn't." Singer was emphatic. "He's really a shit to his kits, right? You guys have said that often enough."

All of his friends nodded. "Yeah," Avens offered. "He's always calling us good-for-nothings. You, too, right?" she asked Nibbles as she caressed his stomach.

"Yup. Both of us. He's always giving Silent a really hard time, trying to make him say something. He even hit him a coupla times." Silent nodded sadly.

Jeff blinked. So all five of them were Gran'Sir's children? Apparently Cloudy had been right: he must be fucking just about all the does. How long had that been going on, he wondered. Too much inbreeding might explain the quirks he'd noticed in the young Rabs -- Nibble's teeth, for example, and his brother being unable to talk. Maybe even Aster's ear, despite what her sister had said.

But what about Singer and his sibs, Sky and Cloudy? Who were their parents? Singer had implied Gran'Sir wasn't their sire. Should he ask? If they'd both been Taken recently, though, maybe he shouldn't. It might be a very painful topic for the young Rab.

Jeff was saved from making that decision, though.

"There you are! Jeff, I've been looking for you." Sky had just come out of the entry. "I hope these kits haven't been bothering you too much."

Singer glared at his older brother. "We aren't kits. We haven't been for a long time. Stop calling us that."

Sky shrugged. "Sorry. You'll always be my younger brother, but I like you anyhow," he grinned. "I've gotta drag Jeff away, though. We have some decisions to make."

"OK" Jeff struggled up. His legs had fallen asleep. "See you guys later?"

"Sure. We've got lots of questions we didn't ask. We'll be looking for you, Trav!"