The 17 Tails of a Cottontail
The First Fluff: A Drowning End
	Avast poor soul! Glance away ye o’ weak hearts, for the tale of the swashbucklin’ cottontail is naught but for the souls of stone and spirits of salt. Our dreadful end begins with nay but a lass, she o’ fair hair, fair mind and a sharp heart, though none could call ‘er a strumpet without invokin’ the fear o’ the Kraken first. Our very own coxswain, with eyes o’-a-hawk. Ne’er has been a better spot, an’ ne’er has been one to sneak on she. Save for one picaroon, our very own cottontail. None can say how, but his feet ne’er seemed to even touch the deck, his skiff was barely visible in the dark night an’ ne’er did she spot him above deck neither! Aye, but he did spot on her. An’ Davy Himself couldn’a scared that boy outta his sights. A damned rapscallion, he was. Ahh, but our rapscallion, that he was. But I’m gettin’ ahead of meself!
	I am now an’ ol’ sea dog, but in these days, I was in the prime o’ me youth! A real buccaneer, Terror O’ the Seas, Cap’n Colfen [Captain Colfen: On record as ‘Caring Colfen’. Given Birth Name: Karen Colfen. Fables: Mother was promised by the gods to have a daughter, out popped a proper with a pecker, named Karen regardless. Fables: Story tells of him letting a merchant ship go due to the crew looking ‘Too sad’, hence, caring. End Report], at yer service. Granted, we was just a small crew at the time, barely a doubloon to each o’ our names, though that was aboutta change.
	But back to the lass an’ the hare! A damned hare, o’ all things. Ya ever seen a rabbit wave a cutlass? It ain’t pretty, mind you, so we hadda try an’ work ‘em with a blunderbuss, but ‘e wouldn’t budge, some ‘No Killin’, a real irate pirate, aye? Aye...but I’ll be drowned if he didn’t pay ‘is passage. Damn it! Off course again, let’s get back to it. The lass, aye. Hadn’t a-spotted soft-feet yet, but his time came when ‘e stood there like a damned fool, just gawkin’ at the red-beauty. The Maiden Aithne [Aithne: On record, little to nothing. Aithne from the tribe Yiersten, Northern.]. A girl from up north, one o’ them Vikin-Folks, real proud an’ shite. An’ boy, did she shine red as a damned lobster when she turned, seein’ the hare just a-starin’, stupidest grin she ever did see plastered across him like a damn ‘yena, not even flinchin’ when her cutlass dripped his neck in a dab o’ red. Well, that’s the tale at least. What he swears did happen, though she said it differently, see, she said he had ‘emself nearly wetted, though we know neither did never tell us the truth on that. What we do know next though is how she yelled out, for me in particular, being Cap’n an’ all, an’ boy, was this lad in trouble, with a bit o’ red on his fur indeed. We ‘ad him questioned, not a-havin’ any weapons or nuffin’ we’s let him live. With a tongue o’ silver, or lead as Aithne tells it, he tore us a tale of a merchant ship goin’ an’ losin’ all it’s valuables in quite a storm! Quite a lotta valuables...which we did spy on the rabbit ‘imself as well, so we mighta let it ring in our ears for the night, mainly cause o’ that gem he kept on his finger bein’ now on me own. We kep’ ‘im on a lockdown for a week or so, havin’ ‘im directing us towards that shipwreck o’ his.
And aye, the cottontail spoke true. But glory, was it a hard one to salvage. She had wiped into a sandbank, cut apart by the slamming waves and jaggin’ rocks, so we had to take a bit o’ a rowin’ journey to get to her heart, boat errywhere, a sail spotted washed against a cliff face only spotted by the crow’s nest! We took the boy along with us, hopin’ to find the most desirables of loot, and left ‘im in the eh...gentle...yeh, gentle, care of Aithne. Which did keep ‘im tame, if it be for the lameness of his body, paralyzed by a gaze so baboonish that even the sea laughed at ‘is buffoonery. But aye, ‘e was gettin’ to ‘er, not a soul could deny it, not even ‘er own. Annoyed at first, even a rope put into ‘is gob, but in the end he got it on out, and kept it out.
	But enough o’ that! Treasure, the best Booty, was what we were after. And we got our load, though at the cost of a shipload o’ fine men. They got drenched, it was rather unpleasant. The boy had gained me trust at least, so we kep ‘im ona leash with dear ol’ Aithne. Even through her rather intense demands o’ cleaning, leanin’ and ropin’ around the deck, he kept up a smile, if not just in his eyes. After a couple o’ weeks o’ this, we let him off the lead,  even taught him a couple shanties. I’ll be damned. That boy cannot sing. At all. But he had the heart for it! An’ we let him when he liked.
	An’ he elected to stay. He had won us more than our own value in plunder, so we set ‘im free, but he wouldn’t leave, so we forced ‘im into work, mind you, not so important work that he could klutz it on up, as he had a tendency to do. Erry night, you coulda seen ‘im starin’ up at that starry sky like it’s the very lifeforce inside o’ him, like the sea were to us, the stars were to ‘im. He wasn’t a seaborn lad, that much was obvious, but we couldn’ta made out what ‘e was.
	Ahh...the days. Lon’ past, but they rest heavy on the ol’ ticker. Brings me a smile. But then comes the waves...an’ they was right fearful. Mates, I best advise ye to stop yer listenin’. It ain’t too cheery onwards. Poor ol’ cottontail…
	Enough o’ that though! The story goes on, as they say. Aye, and it was a beautiful day it was, me very beard was glistenin’ in the warm shine of the sun. The lass an’ her lad were loungin’ on the bow o’ the ship, a lil’ spot they liked to pretend no one else knew abouts. Thas when we saw her. A Jolly Roger no man ever wants to spy. The Nauts. [‘The Nauts’ On Record: An outlaw group of pirates that dominated the seas for a century, ruthless, rich and proud crews with the finest ships, equipment and training.] A group o’ the most fearful of all buccaneers, an’ they was sailin’ right towards us. When we a-spotted ‘em, we called the boy to stay on lookout, Aithne steering us against the waves, forcin’ the very hull to surge with energy, but it weren’t enough. After 3 long days chase, they caught on us, and boarded with ease. We’s lucky we got out alive...though I swear that boy woulda wanted to die then and there when he saw Aithne’s hair coverin’ ‘er head like an angel, floatin’ out in the depths. A frenzy took ‘em over...we hads ta lock ‘em up in the brig ‘till he calmed down, an’ when we let ‘em out, he dove out after her, tryin’ to swim the past day he spent in the brig towards ‘er. We snagged ‘im back up quick n’ easy an’ left ‘im in the brig ‘till he swore on his very tail that he wouldn’ta go after a’drownin’ again, though he ne’er was as before. The lad requested to be dropped off at the first sight o’ land and...none o’ us woulda refused ‘im at the time. When we finally spotted a dry patch, it ain’t like nothin’ we had ne’er seen before, a forest growin’ nearly on the beach! He said a goodbye o’ sorts, kinda just wallowed ‘imself off with a supplies of food n’ bedroll an’ the such, n’ waved his last to us. ‘Twas a time…’twas a time. Ne’er seen the lad since.