It was a quiet evening on the road home..

My name is Kira Bates and I sell fruit at the market. Home grown strawberries are my specialty.
It was a usual day after selling about 10 pounds of fruit. A pocket of full of money and with leftover stock in my arms, I headed home.

I took an old dirt road since the others were a bit too crowded for my liking. I couldn't remember at the time why this particular road was unpopular. There were stories but most sounded too far-fetched to be true.
Then, from a distance I heard a noise, thunderous and dangerously getting closer. My first instinct was to run, but I couldn't go very fast because my shoes kept sinking into the mud.

"Ha-ha! Now we've got her!"

Behind me I heard gunshots and the sound of hooves hitting the road. From that point I blacked out. The world was a dark void of nothingness, there was no distinction between the sky or the ground, as if my body was forever floating.

It was an odd evening. The sun had barely set when I heard a scream outside my house. It sounded like sheer fear, which sent a chill down my spine. More disturbed than angry, I ran out to see what was going on, torch in hand.

"Hey! What do you do there? I've got a right mind to put a hole in you trespassers!"

As I got closer, I saw a group on horseback ride away. They had left something behind. It looked like a pile clothes. of when I approached it was a person. I bent down. She was badly hurt. Bruised and cut, her hair was a mess and her dress was muddy. She was still breathing, and that's all I needed to know as I rushed her back to my house. I couldn't have just left her there, but I didn't consider what kind of questions my fellow friends would have. All that mattered was that someone needed my help.

I reached my house, but I couldn't get the front door open because it was stuck in the thick mud. Luckily when I rounded the house the back door was open. I slipped in and laid her down. I closed the back door and tried to think. What was one to do now?

Bandages, water, clean clothes. I went over a mental checklist. The first thing to do is check for injuries, like broken bones. I recalled my training at the academy.

"I'm not a doctor; I don't even know what to look for."

I just have to be gentle.

I searched around the house for some pillows. Comfort is the first step to recovery. I chose the softest pillow I could find. Clean all wounds. They could be bleeding anywhere. Dress wounds appropriately. In all my busy doings, I didn't hear Alfred knocking on the door; Or him coming in unannounced.

I realized how I looked to at that moment to Alfred. Here I was leaning over her while she was knackered* on a chaise lounge.

"Alfred! Ah, why didn't you knock?"

He stood there staring, probably wondering what he just walked into. He smiled and started to back out the door, finger to his lips.

"Y-you've got the wrong idea! Alfred wait a minute!"I stopped him and explained. At first Alfred didn't seem to believe me until I showed him where I had found her.

"So, you don't even know who she is?"

"Not a clue. I checked for identification." There was a pause in the conversation as I let that sink in; allowing him to understand what was going on.

"Say, why did you come here in the first place?" I asked, curious.

"Huh? Oh yeah, now that I think about it..."

I saw his eyes glaze over and his head tilt. Alfred was looking for past my head. I raised my eyebrows and cleared my throat, looking at him expectantly to finish his sentence. I knew he was trying to catch a glimpse of her.

"Hmm. Can't recall. Guess I'll stick around till I do!"

I wanted to argue that his reason wasn't good enough, to say that my house wasn't a charity. But I knew that would be too easy to rebut. After I finished dressing the girl's wounds, I realized that she would need new clothes. The ones she was wearing were torn and dirty. I tried to figure out the best way to do it. It wouldn't be appropriate for me to change her clothes. It wasn't like she was going to wake up to get dressed either. There was another problem too. I didn't have clothing suitable for a female. I had just the regular, formal apparel that I kept for meetings. There were few casual things that I wore when I went out.

It was times like these when I needed a little extra help. I decided to ask Alfred. Unfortunately we both came to the same conclusion (for once.) While we talked we got on the subject of a name. I thought it rude to keep calling her "that girl" or "she". We tried to draw her character from her wardrobe. After a long debate over accuracy and truth, Alfred and I settled on one based on her jewelry. A little rabbit pendant, hung around her neck. At first it looked like valuable silver. But, upon closer examination, it was simply painted metal.

"Let's call her bunny."

* knackered: worn out, tired, exhausted. British slang.

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