Seconds later, something rustled in the brush beside us. Something big.
The sound froze my blood and hesitated my steps. An animal, maybe one that would hurt us. I was so, so tired of being threatened.
Aimes, unable to shift, plunged into the brush anyway. My heart seized, though he was the last person I should have been afraid for.
There were sounds of a brief tussle before he emerged - and in his hand hung a dead rabbit which he flung at my feet.
"You poor baby, I thought you were a bear," I blurted to it.
Aimes shook his head at me. "Wait. You feel sorry for it because you thought it was a bear or because it's dead?"
"Both, actually," I said. "Why do you insist on killing rabbits and throwing them at my feet all the time?"
"Twice is hardly all the time, little rabbit." He
