A/N: Next time it snows, go out and make a SnowPooka.
"Where are ya you bloody dill?"
No answer.
"...Quit messin' around and come out Frostbite!"
snip. Frr...creeee—CRACK!
A mound of snow found its way onto the Pooka's head. It was almost enough to knock him over. Almost. But he was a proud warrior, 6'1, and had nerves of steel.
Bunny growled and shook himself like a wet dog. He raised a paw to the sky and started shaking his fist at it. "Alright Frostbite, you've got exactly five seconds to get yer pale backside down here-oomph!"
More snow than before followed the broken pine branch and successfully buried Bunny up to his ears. 6'1 to the bottoms or tops of his ears? Who knew. The wind giggled in passing. It was a Snowpooka!
Bunny shook himself once more and came out shivering. "I-i'm go-gonna k-kil-kill that kid."
Not if he dies on you first, a winter fox kit chirped as it skittered into its burrow. Bunny heard it, but couldn't understand it of course. He hopped slowly through the snow, glancing up at all of the trees, looking for Jack and sagging branches simultaneously.
The Pooka's nose led him around the lake to a tall mound of snow. It was marked by sled runners, boot prints, and snow angels. "Looks like Frostbite had a ball over here. Typical," Bunny grouched. "And we're waitin' at the Pole, freezing our feet off, fer a kid that doesn't bother to show 'is ugly mug for three weeks straight. Bloody perfect."
Bunny looked closer at the hill. Not only was it marred by kids' tracks, but it also smelled like Jack. What does Jack smell like? You don't want to know.
Bunny almost turned around and left, assuming that the reason it smelled like the little wayward ankle-biter was because the boy had spent a lot of time playing with the kids on it, but there was something off about it. Maybe it was that above all else, this happened to be the thing that smelled the most like Jack. Stepping closer, the warrior toed the hill. Nothing happened. Perhaps he was inspecting it for...escaped live gingerbread men? Or maybe he thought it was a sleeping beast and was trying to see if it would growl at him. But no, unknown to Bunny, that beast was inside the snow and would bite his ears off before that toe got close to touching him. Who knew where Bunny's toe had been?
Bunny thought hard. Bunny did not think long. Bunny was not patient.
The Pooka scratched his ears. Maybe if he stared at the mound a little harder it would tell him where Jack was.
Bunny shrugged and began to move away. He didn't get far. The wind stopped flying around long enough to slap the great warrior with a swift cold snap. Right on the nose.
Bunny yelped and brought an arm up to rub at his poor nose before resuming hugging himself. The wind swirled around him in frustration then attacked the hill, causing snowflakes to skeeter off its surface. She would push the snow off Jack herself, but it had become hard and packed; difficult to move for a being without hands. Unless erosion was your thing.
Some say maybe all of the planets aligned just right. Others will tell you it was the one stroke of genius imminent in every idiot's life (don't tell Bunny that. His feet may smell like a zoo but he can kick. Bloody kangaroo). Whatever the reason, something between Bunny's ears (or under them?) started whirring like never before and then he knew.
"Crikey..." Bunny grumbled, then raised his voice to shout. "Frostbite! If you can hear me and are ignoring me I'll have you cleanin' the Pole from top to bottom with a toothbrush!"
There was no response, but Bunny was not expecting one.
"Alright then. We'll do this the hard way Frostbite." Unbeknownst to Bunny, the same slow grin that often crossed Jack's features began to spread over his own face. "Let's have some fun..."
The wind looked away. The fox cringed in its burrow and covered its eyes with its fluffy tail.
And the sun...
For the first time in weeks the sun peeked out from its cloud covering and seemed to lean just a little bit closer.
With two stomps of a furry foot the hill began to collapse like a sand castle. Wind held her breath. Then the entire thing suddenly disappeared into the ground, swallowed right through the hole that had appeared beneath it in the blink of an eye. If Jack was in there then he wouldn't even have time to scream. The rumbling died down and the hole knitted itself back together from the outside-in like a monster closing its mouth after a hearty meal. A single white poppy pushed its way through the earth. "See you at the Warren, mate," Bunny said dusting his paws off in a self-satisfied manner and hopping through another hole.
Bunny was in his Warren. Bunny was in his Warren and there was snow. LOTS of snow. He stared at the crumbled white mass blocking the tunnel.
This was not Bunny's main concern, although he could have slapped himself for making such a stupid mistake. Why the Warren? Why not somewhere else? He stepped through the mess until he found what he was looking for. An unconscious Jack Frost. Not a dead one, mind you. Though, the boy certainly had that appearance; limbs flopping every which way, twisted into and over himself in such a way that he looked as if he possessed no bones. Bunny shivered, and not from the cold. Don't tell anyone.
The Pooka warrior picked the winter spirit up, who immediately flopped like a partially melted marshmallow. He shook him a little. "Frostbite? Snowflake? Come on—wake up mate." Jack didn't so much as twitch. "Tooth'll kill me for this."
Bunny took him through the Warren to a guest room, settling him down as gently as he could on the nest when Frostbite's weight seemed to be gravitating everywhere but the comfy bedding. Jack may or may not now have a small collection of bruises, but that wasn't Bunny's fault; the little rag doll made himself bump into those corners and tables and chairs and fences and egg golems and rocks and trees...shut up.
Bunny sent the egg golems to start cleaning up the snow while he assessed Jack. He wasn't knocked out because of that ride through the tunnels, was he? No. The motley of bruising did not reach Frostbite's head, the only part of him surprisingly that had been spared. He wasn't warm, so he didn't have a fever. Impossibly, Jack was even colder than he usually was. His skin had a faint grayish pallor, and frost spider-webbed every inch of his body. Maybe that was the problem; could Jack get too cold? Ugh—Bunny didn't know anything about winter spirits. He should just deliver him to North and the yetis. The others had sent him to find Jack anyway, claiming that they were all SO very busy and Bunny had to be the one to do it. In fact they all were busy, but they had mainly chosen Bunny to track the spirit down because he was the best at it, being an animal and all with heightened senses (blah blah blah). Anyway, they would want to see the boy-though preferably in better condition than this, but you can't always have what you want.
Bunny continued to feel around Jack, trying to find what could possibly be wrong with the boy this time. For all his agility and grace, Jack could be the epitome of clumsy, even with 300 years of experience to back him up. He would trip over bricks, and elephants, and cats, and air. He would fly into walls, moving traffic (still wasn't used to cars), streetlights, and cows. For some strange reason, this last thing was the most frequent occurrence. Jack fell down stairs, ran into doors, bumped his gangly limbs on everything, burned himself in North's kitchens no matter how many times they told him to stay away from them, once nearly lost his hand to an upset giraffe, and was famous for crash landings. Honestly. One had to wonder how he managed it.
And right now, Jack looked as if all of his stunts had done him in at last. Except there was no evidence of anything that could have finally offed the kid. Despite appearing to have stolen his clothes from some unsuspecting hobo, he looked perfectly fine. He was just completely unresponsive without a reason. Asleep maybe? Bunny had to wonder.
Wait, that was it! Bunny's ears perked up. He had seen this kind of behavior from Jack before-when he was hibernating. Except—Bunny's ears drooped. Except Jack only hibernated in the Summer, when it was far too hot for the winter spirit to do anything else. It was nearly December.
"Crikey, mate," Bunny complained. "You really have me stumped. I'm sure North'll be able to figure somethin' out to help though. Shoulda taken you to the Pole in the first place," he grumbled, carefully scooping Jack's limp form into his arms. Jack didn't so much as twitch at this motion. "I hope Tooth's not there. She really might kill me if somethin's seriously wrong with you, kid." Bunny approached one of his tunnels and took off through it, perhaps hopping slower and with more care than usual. Again, don't tell anyone.
