The monster wasn’t content with a single rabbit. From the corner of Yuki’s peripheral, almost all-around vision, she saw the creature move toward her, one of its shoulder snakes lashing in her direction.

  Yuki leaped out of the way and closer to the burrow’s entrance.

  The snake struck at the empty air. It let out a bone-shriveling, shrill hiss. More than a few drops leaked this time. With a giant leap, the leopard bounded forward and landed between the entrance and the fleeing dwarf rabbit.

  In the full thrall of panic, Yuki whirled and made a mad dash toward another entrance. Her paws were ready to jump and get out of dodge again, but the monster didn’t give chase this time; it was busy eating another of the colony. It lashed and grabbed at the larger and slower rabbits who had also moved toward that entrance to their underground warren.

  On the other side of the clearing, she saw another snakepard materialize, the shoulder snakes lashing at unsuspecting prey. From the corner of her eyes, she saw one rabbit she hadn’t seen before: it was big, so big Yuki even doubted if it could be called a rabbit. It ran toward the monster instead of away, with its head lowered and horn pointed at the enemy. Yuki didn’t stay to see the result. She wished the giant rabbit all the luck in the world. It would need it.

  Yuki fled, leaped, dashed, and scurried until she was back again at her corner of the burrow, huddled inside the nest.

  As it turns out, rabbits can’t shed tears, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. Huddled in a corner of the burrow, she glared at the others. Yuki didn’t go through the five stages of grief. There was no denial. Bunbun was dead.

  How did this happen? Weren’t there rabbits on the lookout for things like this? But she knew the answer. She’d seen the creature appear as if from thin air. The only clue she had was the smell. The lemony scent spiked just before the monster materialized.

  Yuki knew that her new family was just rabbits. Even with all the anthropomorphizing, they were normal animals with no sapience or enhanced intelligence. But maybe she managed to convince even herself to the contrary because right now, the hurt was too real. She shut off her mind and let the body take over.

  Like a feral animal, she snarled when Whisker Wigglebotton tried to join the nest. She nipped Nutjob’s paws when he moved closer. She screamed when Flopsy Mopsy approached to sleep. Not even Sir Hopsalot escaped Yuki’s anger; she ground her teeth and thumped whenever he tried to enter the nest.

  Yuki slept alone and cold.

  It was the thirst that jolted her away from the funk. Her mouth was dry, her throat sore, and her eyes stung like someone dropped sand in them. She glanced at the system message.

  Exp: +1.

  Only one day? It was hard to believe; it felt like an eternity.

  Like a zombie searching for brains, Yuki got up and shambled through the warren’s tunnels. Her thoughts went back to the clearing and the ambush. What else could she have done in that situation? Was there any way she could have saved Bunbun? Yuki had no illusions she could fight the monsters. She was fast, but what else?

  Yuki had magic.

  From the knowledge implanted in her brain, [Wrack] was an offensive spell. Even if the magic was strange, it felt like it was missing a part or something.

  Yuki stumbled, falling face-first into the underground pool. She ignored the other rabbits in the chamber, drank until she couldn’t anymore. She left the water, feeling like a soaked sponge.

  She never knew rabbits could be this ingenious. It was very convenient to have an underground chamber reserved exclusively for water. Where was it coming from? An underground river?

  Wet and more awake, Yuki shambled back to the nest, dripping like an old rain gutter after a heavy downpour. She passed by other rabbits: kits exploring, adults moving through and fro. Nothing seemed different. It was like the disaster from the previous day wasn’t important enough, as if Bunbun’s death meant nothing.

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  Yuki wanted to be angry at the whole colony, scream, bite, and tear into them, but that was silly; they were just rabbits. Like any other animal of prey, to them, death was a constant companion. Her shambling led her back to the nest. Without a care for the mess left behind, she flopped back at her sleeping nook, fell asleep again as soon as she hit the leaves and fur.

  Yuki woke up to a warm something pressed against her side. She opened one eye. Dark gray fur, twitching whiskers, and the black eyes of Whisker Wigglebotton greeted her. For a moment, both rabbits stared at each other. Content Yuki wouldn’t snarl, Whisker continued grooming Yuki’s fur. Yuki closed her eyes and went back to sleep. If she wiggled her bottom closer to Whisker, it was one’s imagination.

  She woke up again; it was warm. She opened another eye and noticed Flopsy Mopsy slept by her other side. Yuki flipped around to stare in the direction of the wall. If that made her press harder against Flopsy, it was just a coincidence. She closed her eye and went back to sleep.

  When she next opened her eyes, Yuki noticed something was off.

  The nest was torn to shreds, fur scattered everywhere. None of the comfy dry leaves and grass interwoven with the fur. On cue, her stomach growled. She peeked at the log messages—

  Exp: +1.

  It was time to get her shit together and move on. Moping around wouldn’t change anything. Yuki got up and left the nest. The warren was and felt different. Rabbits still moved to and fro, but their movements weren’t as lively as they had been in the days prior. Inside chambers, a lot more rabbits lay there, unmoving. Some dug at the walls; others nibbled at the dirt.

  Down the tunnels, she went toward the underground pool. Once at her destination, Yuki drank her fill without an impromptu bath this time. Belly full of cold water, she moved away from the pool and toward the burrows’ upper chambers.

  Between one tunnel and another, she met Captain Nutjob. Both stared at each other.

  Nutjob’s brown fur coat wasn’t as pristine anymore, and no Whisker followed him like a sad puppy. His nose still twitched with self-importance, but the giant rabbit was the first to look away and slunk out of Yuki’s path, giving her a wide berth while he passed her.

  “Damn right,” she growled, “move along.”

  That would teach the big bully that size wasn’t everything. So what if he was big, beautiful, and had a splendid horn? Yuki might be tiny and hornless, but she could bite just like the best of them. With a pep in her step at the small but significant victory, she went on toward her destination. She stopped a few meters away from one of the burrow entrances.

  Rabbits milled about, looking at the outside but not daring to go out. Yuki could guess why. The lemony scent was strong here. She’d bet there was one of the snakepards by the entrance, waiting for the tasty little rabbits to leave the safety of their home.

  The giant rabbit hadn’t driven the monsters away. Did it die? Or just fled?

  These monsters would get their just dessert in but a moment.

  How should Yuki do this? She closed her eyes and thought again about the spell. It needed hand-waving and chanting. It didn’t need a material component, which was a plus, but it still felt like something was missing. The broken system trope wasn’t helping here.

  She willed the system to describe the spell again.

  Wrack:

  Attacks the victims by wracking them with magical force.

  And that was it. No other information whatsoever. Yuki guessed that the answer to how magic worked was tied to the skills related to magic casting. Unfortunately, the damn system wouldn’t tell her what the skills did.

  “System, display information for skill: Invocation.”

  The system function ‘Skill’ is currently unavailable.

  Unavailable how and why? No matter how she asked, the system wouldn’t say.

  Yuki took a deep breath. There was only one way to find out if this could work. She stood on her hind legs and freed her ‘arms.’ She began the sweeping gestures needed to cast the spell. Soon after, the chanting also started.

  Around her, the other rabbits’ ears swiveled in her direction. From outside, she heard the sounds of leaves being stepped on.

  Yuki ignored it. This was nothing. She wasn’t embarrassed. Nope, she was an MG cosplayer. She’d worn strange costumes and done stranger stuff at others’ convention attendee’s requests. Yeah, this was RP, nothing else. There was no need to worry about what her fellow rabbits would think. Yuki followed the knowledge implanted in her mind. She chanted with slow, precise cadence, a difficult feat for her rabbit mouth and throat. She executed each sweeping paw wave with care, each chant articulated to the best of her rabbit capabilities. What could have been a magic cast in mere seconds took Yuki minutes instead.

  After her intense labor and the audience's interested nose twitching, the spell was ready.

  Yuki held the complete spell in mind, ready for release. She pushed her power into the spell, willing it into existence.

  A new scent spread throughout the air. It reminded Yuki of the nest, happy days, and Mom’s vanilla scent. But then, the magic stopped. The power receded; the smell construct disappeared from her mind. Yuki was left with nothing aside from several blinking system notifications.

  System function ‘Skill’ Locked.

  Age of Maturity not yet reached.

  Failed to use Skill [Invocation].

  Yuki eyed the messages with distrust. Growled, frustrated. “Dafuq is this?”