Title: Second to Last and Rising
Rating: M
Fandom: Rise of the Guardians
Chapter(s): 1/?
Characters: Bunnymund, Original Female Character, Pooka, Jack Frost, North, Tooth, Sandy, Original Male Characters
Pairings: Bunnymund/Original Female Characters, North/Tooth
Synopsis: Kozmotis Pitchiner slaughtered all of the Pooka, except for one: E. Aster Bunnymund. It was a fact! Bunny had been around since Pangaea; surely he would have found another Pooka if there had been one! But when investigating seasonal disturbances, what will happen when Bunnymund finds another Pooka?
Tags: Character Death, Blood, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Childbirth, Lactation, Male Lactation
3rd Person: Bunnymund's
"Yeah yeah sheilah, ah get it! Only stay ou' as long as ah think ah can last, if ah feel tired ah'll come back so Sandy can take my place." the motherly rainbow feathered Tooth Fairy fluttered in front of him, unsatisfied by his answer.
Oh no, the sheilah was opening her mouth again! Not wanting to have to listen to her rambling on and on once more, the buck tapped his hind-paw twice on the ground. A hole appeared to rend the ground, the origin point of which seemed to be where he had hit the wood floor. He called a farewell before leaping down into it, hearing Tooth call out his name before he closed the tunnel, an aster popping up.
'Ah, sweet silence.' thought the Pooka, but he only relaxed for a moment before beginning to race down the tunnel that had formed. While he really, really didn't want to do this, he knew that it was a necessary evil. He prayed to MiM that he'd find the culprit of the random weather.
After a good while, the tunnel began sloping up, and he quickly neared the end of the tunnel – a thick, solidly packed wall of dirt that would hurt like hell to run into. However, when he was but a stride away, a hole opened up much like the one earlier, granting access to his general destination. As per habit, he stuck his ears out first, and swiveled them around, checking the area; no point in getting maimed by another spirit before he could complete his mission.
Satisfied that there were no spirits in the general vicinity, Bunny nimbly leaped out of the hole, which quickly stitched up under him, another aster leaving the only sign that it had ever existed. He stood where he landed, swiveling his head slowly, allowing his gaze to drift over the landscape, taking in everything, not missing the slightest of details.
Although it was late in Spring, and any winter spirits should have moved south to help the fall spirits paint their leaves, the ground was coated in a thick layer of ice, frost, and snow. The air was frigid, with the scent of winter spirit magic to it. The trees were cracking and popping from the unnatural cold, having been gently and carefully coaxed out of their hibernation by a spring spirit, only to be cruelly yanked back into the freezing, dangerous times of winter. He could feel their pain, hear them crying and moaning, and felt red hot anger flood his veins. He would get the bloody gallah who did this!
He breathed in deep, standing tall for the best vantage point, ears stretched as high as they could go, swiveling around. There was no one nearby, but the snow was fresh. The spirit had to have been here recently; no more than a day, two at the most. A sniff. Wait, what was that?
He swiveled his head once more as he inhaled. It smelled almost like... fire? But, that wasn't possible! He hadn't met a spirit yet – and he had been around a long, long time – who could manipulate both ice and fire. It wasn't possible!
Aster stepped forward, following his nose. At the edge of a clearing was a large, melted patch of slush, the grass visible heavily charred and burned, and reeking of malevolent intent and fear. What had happened here?
Looking at the clearing that he had yet to enter, Bunny was overwhelmed by the clogging scent of death, the heart stopping smell of fear, the acrid scent of something that had caught fire, and something he couldn't name. He was shocked to see that most of the snow had been turned to slush by what had to be something of high temperature – this was winter spirit snow. A winter spirits snow could only be melted if they so wished it, by Mother Nature's cycle, or by way of a Summer Spirit's fire.
And then he discovered what he hadn't been able to name before.
Blood.
The silver-blue blood of a winter spirit soaked the leftover snow, so lightly colored that he hadn't noticed at first. The other smells had covered up the cloying, metallic scent of the life-blood up until the moment that he swiped his fingers into some and brought it up to his nose to make sure it was what it seemed.
It was.
Bunnymund sat back on his haunches, puzzling over this. Nothing was making sense! First, they found out that there were random and out-of-season ice storms and blizzards. Then, he discovered thick winter spirit magic, even though there should have been no winter spirits around. He had also found patches of snow burned. And then, he found the clearing that could give a cadaver dog a heart attack. The snow was melted, saturated with blood.
Wait... he brought his nose to the air, and began to inhale. He picked the scents apart, and realized that the blood wasn't the scent he couldn't make out. There was a scent like heavy spices, and it hit him like North's sled: a summer spirit!
It was obvious to him then what was going on. Why hadn't he thought of it earlier!?
The winter spirit and summer spirit had gotten into a bad altercation, and due to it the winter spirit had been stuck up here; likely because the summer spirit wouldn't let it flee. Probably, the summer spirit had started it. They were known for being hot headed and vain, taking offense easily. If one ran into a playful, mischievous winter spirit, a fight was practically guaranteed.
Obviously, the winter spirit was wounded. Badly. Aster needed to find it so he could fix the flare-ups and heal the spirit. Sure, easy enough. Pooka aren't considered top notch trackers for nothing.
So Bunny set out in ever widening circles, searching for the slightest hint of a winter spirit. It took him a while to find a trace of it, blood on the ground with a patch of frost on the side of a tree, where he guessed the spirit had used the tree to hold itself up.
Bunny was an expert tracker. Any Pooka older than a kit was. So it wasn't that hard for him to keep the trail with ears swiveling like radar, his eyes scanning for visual tracks in areas that fit where the last one had been, and his nose twitching in search of the slightest of scents. Little patches of frost on the trees, blood splattered on the ground, a sudden breath of black cherry or a lungful of crisp air. He moved quickly enough that the trail became fresher in minutes, going from almost-melted slushy frost to pristine, harsh patterns he had grown to associate with fear, anger, or strong emotions from Frostbite. He sped up, fearing for the winter spirit.
Before Frost had joined the Guardians, Bunny had occasionally spoken with spirits outside of their group in passing, but never thought of them, visited, or interacted otherwise. It just never came to mind. However, when they learned of Frostbite's story, and the centuries of loneliness he'd dealt with, he and the other Guardians began making an effort to speak and make friends with the other spirits. They didn't want anyone else to be forced to go through Jack's plight, and definitely didn't need another Pitch Black.
Aster was determined not to let this spirit suffer alone.
He ducked and weaved over and under logs and boulders, dashing as fast as he could while still being able to watch for the trail. Bunny was losing the feeling in his paws from the cold, but he didn't care! If he didn't make it in time, the Spirit might die!
After about ten minutes of following the trail, it ended in another forest, this one far thicker than the others. He reared up onto his hind legs, glad to go bipedal again. While he didn't mind walking on his fore- and hind-legs, it was more comfortable to walk on his hind, perhaps because the pads were thicker.
A swivel of the ears, a flicker of the eye, a twitch of the nose.
And he knew the Spirit was very, very close.