A Guardian Angel for the Kind
Sitting awake on his bed, Angel scowled at the shadow-casting beams on the ceiling. Does that filly even listen when I’m miming? He jumped off of his bed to pace the moss green lengths of wood on the floor. It’s like I don’t even exist to her or something.
The soft sound of her hooves padding up the steps forced him to cross his paws and make the ugliest face he could to the empty stairwell. When Princess Fluttershy graced him with her presence, she cringed. “I’m,” she yawned, “sorry.”
Of course you are. He pruned his face as far as he could prune it then exploded outward, paws raised to the ceiling. When aren’t you?!
Fluttershy rubbed at her cheek, her hair falling over her hoof. “The chickadees and the chickens got into a fight again, and Harry wanted another twelve pails of oats.”
She flew over to him in his basket, tucking him in with his baby blue blanket and his tiny carrot plushie. Angel blinked slowly. What does that have to do with me? I don’t see how this could possibly relate back to me waiting here in lieu of tuck-in time for like ten minutes- ten, Miss Thing. Do you know how much that is in rabbit years? TEN MINUTES. I could’ve died waiting here, and where would you be?
Fluttershy plodded off, mumbling something about the beehives and the lizards, and snuggled down into the fluffy depths of her bed.
Sure, walk away. It’s what you’re good at. Angel grunted, a tiny, high-pitched sound. He turned decidedly away from her and her neglect, thinking to himself how many carrot-based pancakes it would take for her to pay him back.
ooo
Clawing desperately at dying dreams, Angel’s nose twitched back and forth. Purrs and little growls tugged at his ears and dragged him kicking and screaming into full consciousness. He twisted in his cotton sheets and tossed them about, until finally, he just had to sit up, glaring. Oh-ho, this had better be good.
Angel turned his scowling face to Fluttershy’s bed, a tower of plush and flower-print, and his anger rusted over, petrifying him from the stomach outward.
Fluttershy, or some look-alike much too alike for his comfort, perched atop her head-board. She mewled like an injured kitten, and compressed her head between her hooves. Her pretty face cracked, and flushed like she was sitting in a sauna. Her incisors, which had grown just enough to poke out of each end of her mouth, strained down. The soft, feathered wings that’d held him all his life folded outwards, now entirely alien: a thick layer of webbing between each spindly limb.
Angel fell back over his cotton-tail as she rose from her perch extending those awful wings further to their full extent. She stood over him completely transformed, and hissed at him. He shook with horror.
Fluttershy leapt off into the air, careening straight for him. Angel jerked his whole body into a tiny, tightly packed ball and hesitated only a second before rolling out of it, to watch, mouth open wide enough for his furry fist, as his mistress crawled down the ceiling of the stairwell.
Angel blinked as deliberately as physically possible to erase the image from his memory, but it was no use. While he lay there, Fluttershy- or whatever this monstrous substitute for his sweet, gentle caretaker would be called- made herself right at home downstairs.
How could he tell from all the way up here?
A teeth-clattering crash of glass and other fine silverware erupted from the floor below. Angel jumped off his seat and ran down the circling stone steps.
He came to kitchen archway, and immediately had to jerk his head behind the frame. His shoulders flinched with the sound of another wave of ceramic shrapnel hitting the tile. Hesitantly, he peeked out into the kitchen.
Fluttershy’s disturbingly dull back was to him, her wings tucked around the front. She’d hung herself by her tail from the swinging chandelier so she could bat at the cabinets with her hooves and smack down a whole shelf of dessert plates.
Sweet, merciful Rabbit God. Angel sprang forth with his paws outstretched. He caught the first one- and the second stacked precariously atop that, and more and more until he had a whole set of china above his sweating, straining head.
The open bird cages ranging from little to large trembled, the birds ruffling up their feathers and backing up against the far end of their cage from Fluttershy. She noticed, sneered, and hissed, tongue waggling at them. Then satisfied with herself, she darted out above Angel’s head into the living room, making him have to stumble to catch his balance.
The tropical birds flailing their feathers about made every sort of panicked noise they could- a rich variety of intolerable sounds.
Angel set aside the stack with extraordinary efforts, and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
He rushed over to the cages, making frantic shushing motions with his paws and shaking his head. The birds flailed around in their cages, beating themselves against the sides and sending little plumes down toward Angel.
Hey! His ears pointed down with his balled paws. He did next what any logical bunny rabbit would, and beat his foot against the ground with enough force to cause an earthquake (for an anthill).
Still, the birds thought it was the perfect time for a chorus of unnaturally loud squawks and squeals.
Angel brought his gripped paws up to a shaking head, nearly bursting with unadulterated rage. Breathe, bunny-boy, just breathe.
Then, he saw something and his grip went slack. He made a little a-ha noise. Sacks of bird-seed sat hunched beneath the bird cages. Of course! He hopped over, took one appraising sniff, then ripped one open with his buck teeth and pushed it over with his foot.
Angel smiled and showcased the birdseed with his paws. ‘Bout time for a midnight snack, huh, boys?
The birds flocked down all at once, pushing him back on his tail. He held his head, smirking. Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome. Just don’t get used to it.
He turned his gaze to the archway where Fluttershy disappeared. One disaster down, one to go.
Angel hopped over to the living room to find Fluttershy perched atop the wood-trim of the couch, in the corner, shrouded in shadow. He smiled. Easy enough.
Alright, precious, fun time’s over now. He strolled over with his paws held behind his back, and motioned for her to come down with a nod. Come, then. It’s bedtime for all little bat-filly-things, don’t you think?
In lieu of a response, Fluttershy raised her batwing over her eyes. Her furry ears flopped like a leaves in the wind.
Angel dead-panned. I wasn’t asking, sweetheart. Rabbits aren’t nocturnal.
This time, Fluttershy did come down. She swooped down, nearly decapitating him, and soared off to the next room.
Angel stared uselessly off to the doorway. ... Not the lion’s den. He cringed realizing just how long of a night this would be, and rushed after her. Not the lion's den!
ooo
Fluttershy came to with the faintest headache, a pinch in a dream far off and fading from memory. She sat up, eyes too loaded with sleep to open properly. She rubbed at her eye with one hoof and stretched the other towards her expanding chest. Her feathery wings extended out. “Good morning,” she said dutifully, her small voice stretching with her.
She opened her eyes to find Angel stumbling over the bumps of her comforter towards her, dancing in the early morning light. She giggled. “Why hello, sleepyhead.”
Angel came up, and kissed her cheek. Without so much as a look in her direction, he collapsed over a cushion beside her. Fluttershy leaned her head off to the left, smiling with the infinite love of a mother. “You didn’t sleep well, either?”
