A/N: People wanted to know how Jack became a Guardian.
Instead, I'm telling you how Bunny died.
Hey, it's my story. Roll with it.
Disclaimer: No, I don't own RotG. No, I don't want to own RotG. No, you do not want me to own RotG.
"You know, everything would have been fine if you could have just let me be."
"W-what do ya mean?" Green eyes filled with betrayal and confusion stared up at him, and he sighed. As delectable as owning a soul was, it seemed like having one came at the cost of loosing around half your brain cells. Almost all the Soul-Havers he had met in his lifetime were invariably stupid to a surprising degree.
"What I mean is that if you had given up on your foolish plan to make me a Guardian, and had instead followed your better judgment and simply left me alone, you wouldn't be bleeding all over the floor right now."
He sighed again, gaze falling on the blood-stained blade in his hand. "Although I suppose it is no use crying over spilled milk."
He tossed the blade to one side, watching as it skittered over the ground and collided with the opposite wall. He turned his bright blue gaze back on the dying Pooka at his feet, his heart filling with contempt upon meeting the terrified gaze of his victim.
For a warrior, the Pooka is certainly rather fearful.
The rabbit's death was certainly untimely and inconvenient. There was, however, no point in wasting a perfectly usable soul.
Kneeling beside the dying spirit, the cat sidhe breathed in deeply, before placing his left hand over Bunny's chest. The Pooka's eyes widened. "What are ya doing?!"
Ignoring Bunny, Jack began chanting in a high-pitched voice, eyes melting from icy blue to warm, fiery amber. "Thig, a anam. Fàg ur bàsmhor nan Dàileacs, agus thig leam. Airson nach urrainn dhut fuireach an seo gu bràth, agus tha e nas fheàrr a 'faighinn thairis air do pian luaithe seach an dèidh sin." *
The last thing Bunny saw was an emerald haze parting from his chest, before the world fell into blissful, permanent black.
A/N:
* This section is in (probably highly warped-I don't trust Google Translate) Scottish Gaelic (because cat sidhes are mainly a Scottish legend and it made sense). Roughly, I think it means "Come, soul. Leave your mortal casing, and come with me. For you cannot stay here forever, and it is better to get over your pain sooner rather than later."
At least, I hope it means that. That's what I put in Translate, at least. I don't know what came out. I am not Scottish.
If any of you Scottish-Gaelic-savvy people can correct my likely pathetic attempt to write in that language, I would be your friend for life.
...Review?