Delicious Rabbit Chapter 5: Cooking and Epilogue

>You don’t know what to say.
>Suddenly you’re not doomed, and you have a crying pegasus all over your floor.
>Hesitantly, you kneel down and put an arm around her.
>She leans into your side, folds her wing around your shoulders, and pulls you close.
>She's warm.

>Fluttershy gradually calms down as the two of you cuddle.
>You and Fluttershy spend a while just lying on the floor, cuddling.
>Her coat brushing against your face, and her wings wrapped around your torso.
>It’s peaceful, for a while.
>And then her stomach softly growls.
“Hungry?”
>”I… kind of forgot to eat breakfast.”
“Do you want, uh…”
>Your voice trails off, unsure.
>She draws in a breath, and firmly says “Yes.”
>You rise to your feet, help her up, and lead her to the kitchen.

“The meat’s going to take about half an hour to defrost, so we’ll get the rest of the ingredients out first. Get out some onions, rice, and any other vegetables you feel like eating.”
>You descend to the basement, get the meat out of the freezer, and turn around to almost crash into Fluttershy.
>”Oh! Sorry Anon,” she says as she hurriedly backs up the stairs. “I just wanted to see, um, the meat.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to see it while it’s thawing. Have you decided what vegetables you want?”
>”Carrots. They just… feel right.”

>Fluttershy stares at the defrosting meat, floating in the bowl of warm salty water.
>She stares at it while you put the rice on the stove and dice the vegetables.
>“This is Angel. This is what’s become of my Angel Bunny.”
>You place a hand on her shoulder, but she shakes it off.
>She stares at the raw meat, mesmerized, as it defrosts and brines.
>She stares at it as you lift it from the brine, and carry it to the oven to cook.
>You watch her breath in, deeply, and her nose twitches at the scent.
>”This is all that’s left.”
“There’s still a little bit in the–”
>”That’s not what I mean.” Fluttershy cuts you off. “This is all that’s left of Angel. Meat.”
“You’re sure you want to go through with this?”
>A pregnant pause, and then:
>”Yes.”
>She certainly sounds determined, at least.

>”You’re not making soup?”
>You dice the cooked rabbit parts and mix them into the pan with the rice and chopped vegetables.
“No, I thought I’d do a stir-fry. Meat, rice, veggies. I don’t think soup is really breakfast food.”
>”That sounds nice, but I was really hoping you’d have more of the soup.”
>Fluttershy peers over your shoulder, watching you cook.
>You’re taller than her, of course, so she’s hovering in place.
“I did tell you I’d only be able to make something similar. I don’t have the right ingredients to make that kind of soup again.”
>”Well, what’d you make that soup out of that’s so special?”
“Angel’s brain.”
>You hear a muffled thump, and turn around to find Fluttershy on the floor.
>”I’m okay,” she says, gathering herself together.
>”I’m fine,” she says, as you help her back to her feet.

>You dig into your meal with gusto, savouring the texture on your tongue and between your teeth, and the way the rice sticks slightly to the still juicy chunks of flesh.
>It’s been far too long since you’ve eaten meat. Actual animal flesh.
>Fluttershy does the much the same, but she takes longer than you do to finish chewing each mouthful.
>Her eyes close when she’s not actively moving food to her mouth to better filter out everything but the taste.
>You could get used to watching her enjoy the food you make. It’s a nice feeling, knowing that you’re not alone in your desires.
>You finish your plate before she does hers, and as she finishes picking the last bit of carrot off the plate, the edges of her mouth twitch slightly downwards. Her eyes open, and she gazes far past the plate in front of her into empty space.
“Why the frown? Is there something wrong?”
>She starts slightly, lost in thought.
>”Oh, no! Nothing’s wrong at all, that was delicious, it’s just… I have something I need to go do. I’m so sorry to run out on you right after a meal, but I really need to go do this.”
“It’s no problem, Fluttershy. See you tomorrow?”
>She smiles. “I’d like that.”

>I rush out the door, my mind buzzing.
>I hope Anon doesn’t think I’m rude, but I think best when I’m alone.
>The meat I ate today didn’t have the creamy quality I was hoping for.
>Anon’s special ingredient was Angel’s brain.
>Well, just a bunny brain, really. I don’t think the recipe would mention Angel by name.
>But that does mean I’m not going to taste that taste again anytime soon.
>That creamy, divine, rich taste.
>That taste that made me feel actually full for the first time, and–
>No.
>No, I’m not doing that. I’m not going to go that far.
>I’ve already eaten Angel, that’s enough. I’m not going to become any worse.
>I’m not going to do this.

>I’m actually doing this. I’m actually going this far.
>I hurry forward under the cover of darkness, towards my goal.
>I’m a horrible pony.
>Anon opens his door, and rubs his eyes. Light spills out into the night, casting bright outlines on the darkened ground.
>”Fluttershy? It’s very late, what’s this abo–”
>He freezes in place, and his jaw hangs slackly below his widening eyes.
>Buttercup squirms in my tight grip. She’s uncomfortable, but I’m okay with that.

>He’s cutting her open now, I can hear it.
>His knife cutting through flesh.
>All that care, all that love, all come to nothing.
>I raised her from a little tiny thing of fuzz and bones to a healthy, happy, beautiful bunny rabbit, and now she’s food. One snap of a neck, and she’s just dead meat to be eaten.
>I shouldn’t like this, this isn’t right.
>I shouldn’t feel so powerful.
>I’ve never had power. I’ve always been timid, and shy, and spineless. I’ve always been considerate, and caring, and softhearted.
>I’ve never ever done anything like this, this abuse of trust and love.
>I’ve done something just for me, for us, for Anon and I. This is something selfish.
>I’ve never been selfish before.
>It feels good.

Epilogue: Confidence

>You wake up feeling good.
>Being wrapped in warm feathers and fur as you are, it’d be hard to feel bad.
>You gently extract yourself from Fluttershy’s limbs, and quietly pad downstairs.
>She’ll be hungry after everything you two did last night.
>Time to make breakfast.

>I wake up feeling good.
>I feel confident, and strong, and loved.
>I haven’t felt this way in a very long time.
>Not since before Flight Camp. Not since…
>Not since then.
>I want to keep feeling this way.

>Angel and Buttercup don’t wake up. Soon, neither will Maddy, or Sasha, or Elizabeth, or Alphonse, or Sammy, or Fergie, or many other small mammals.