Adam of Clan Brach studied the bunny named Razor. He’d never seen a rabbit which strode upon two legs before, nor had he ever seen one charge into battle with a battle axe the size of a Claymore sword. Yet here he walked next to one.
Razor wore dehydrated leather armor; his massive battle axe was made of dinosaur bone. Adam kept quiet as they made their way across the desert. Razor noticed Adam’s interest and turned his black eyes toward him.
“What now, human?”
“Nothing. I looked at your equipment.”
“It was my son’s.”
“You’re wearing your son’s armor? Don’t you have your own? Where is your son?”
“My son is dead, killed at the hands of a human for meeting his eyes. That is all I will say about it.”
“He was a warrior?”
“You must have been proud of him.”
“Your son fought his enemies. Why wouldn’t you feel proud?”
“My son fought in a rebellion against our human overlords. He got many of my people killed because of his foolishness.”
“You frown upon war? Human overlords?”
“My people know our place within our world. We do not rebel; we work to achieve harmony. Violence is counter to balance and peace.”
“You are slaves?”
“We are content.”
“Didn’t you want justice for your son?”
“Balance was restored with his death and the complete annihilation of the rebellion.”
Adam dropped the conversation, and he and Razor continued to walk until the sun sank behind the dunes. They dropped to the soft sand behind a massive hill and stretched out. The firmament was filled with stars, the moon was silver and full.
“I would want the head of the man who killed my son,” Adam said as he closed his eyes.
Razor nodded. “Of course, you would want that human. Your kind knows nothing of peace or balance, of harmony and life in stillness.”
“I know not what you speak, Razor.”
Adam drifted off to sleep and dreamed of non-violent bunnies who carried Jurassic Aged weaponry and chased humans through portals that transported them throughout time. Razor stayed awake and watched the human.
He knew too well what their kind was capable of.