You guys. I got the D.

The first D.

We can all enjoy the D's guys.

Sorry if the chapter makes no sense, it's one in the morning and I just wrote it now.

Mind, it don't need to make sense. It's the D.


Dainty, adj
- very delicate and pretty

For the longest time, he'd loved Toothiana.

Her smiles were so warm and loving, her laugh was musical... there was always a glimmer of happiness and hope twinkling in her eyes.

Bunny couldn't help but feel like he had no chance whatsoever, because he was – when all was said and done – a giant bunny rabbit. He was a true blue, snarky, pessimist. He was adorable, the reason hope existed, really kind and caring deep beneath his tough (yet fluffy) exterior. But he was still just a rabbit.

And she... struth, she was everything that was good in his world.

She was beautiful. With her subtle curves that shaped her body perfectly, the light that bounced from her feathers, making her body shimmer all the colours of life, radiating everything within herself so clearly. Her wide, wonderful eyes – that shade of mauve he could never recreate in his paints that sparkled and shone exuberantly. And with all the light that burst from her, she expelled such a feeling of strength from her very bones that the Pooka couldn't help but love her, couldn't help but feel enraptured.

And yet there was a certain delicacy about her, a fragility. Whether it was in the soft notes of her voice as she spoke or the fact that she was so damn small he didn't know, nor did he think he ever truly would. But there was something about her that, amidst all her beauty, was humble. She knew she was capable of fierce and terrible things. But she never raised a hand to anyone if she could help it. She would never strike back, physically or verbally, unless it was a matter of importance. She would stand her ground defiantly – but never rise forward or shrink back.

It was amazing to watch her.

Perhaps he loved the way she could so easily fly. Something he never much liked himself, and he'd been dragged on one too many sleigh rides with North to know he didn't like it. But there was something about the way she did it... it wasn't like the bumpy, death defying experience he would come to attribute to flying with North. Instead Tooth could flit forward as fast as light, or she could drift about in the air peacefully, like a firefly, wandering. She made it look as easy as raising an arm. It was merely something she was born to do, the ability was in essence an extension of herself.

She was his opposite, and he shouldn't love her.

But she was a kind, loving soul. She was compassionate, caring, brilliant in every way he could think of, loyal and trusting. Funny! And she was so nice to touch, her skin like silk or velvet. Soft and smooth beneath the pads of his paws.

As Bunny thought more about her, he couldn't help but continue to compare their similarities and – most profoundly – their differences. He was a creature of the Earth, and she was one of the air. He was rough, and bitter – dangerous at the best of times. Toothiana at her worst could seriously damage you. But she was never rough. Always smooth. A gentle breeze blowing over the mountain – sweet and beautiful...

Their opposites were what attracted him the most, because she was something he had never had in his life before, her qualities something he had never been able to attain. And she was right there, inches from his fingers that were so desperately reaching out, and time and time again he would let her slip through the cracks because he could not make her love him. And he would never have tried to make her.

Because although he loved her with all his heart, she was not one that gave her affections so easily. Like the Earth he held fast and clung on and the emotions in his soul would run their course for lifetimes. Like the air, her emotions came and went before she could exhale again – fleeting and brief but wonderful.

Like a bird, she could not be caged. And no matter how much his heart longed for her, no matter how much he wanted to keep her to himself, to have some delicacy in his life, he could not bring himself to ground her. To make her rough around the edges. Because that would change who she was and everything he loved about her.

Instead, he would continue, as he had done for several hundred years, to love her from afar. To watch as she flew and soared and was free, and beautiful, and strong and dainty all in one. Her qualities known to him like the back of his hand, but ever changing like the winds. Beautiful... terrible, but beautiful.

He could repress his feelings for her, accept only the love of friends she would extend to him, because it would be wrong to expect anything more, and rude to turn it away, and he could live like that. He had lived like that for a large part of his life.

And he was content in that, because a long time ago he'd come to accept that the Earth and the air were two very different things, but every so often one may reach and touch the other briefly and that would be it.

There would be another time. There was always another time.