I shit you not, our weather forecast yesterday was 'Thunder Snow'. I got so excited; you have no idea. I started singing AC-DC's song Thunderstruck as Thundersnow. I live in the south, in the US, where we don't get much snow. So snow is a big deal here. Sadly, I did not go out and play in it. I was at home instead of at my university, and I didn't have too much to do out in it. Plus, the snow started late in the day.

I went out today and had a great time, though. Destroyed my ten year old sister with some snowballs, did some butt sledding. Then I put on a gas mask and one of those Russian toboggans and waved a stick over my head at my sister and people driving by our yard. I was a snow raider. There are pictures and I love them.

Moving on, this is my take on Jack and Bunny's prior knowledge of each other. I find it really hard to believe that Bunny was a dick to Jack from the beginning. I don't think the animosity would've been such an immediate thing. Bunny's a nice... um... guy, so he was probably nice to Jack at first. I think it was more just a neglect thing, really.

Sorry for the delay in updates. Been doing art stuff for school and trying to apply for a new job. And I've been writing short stories for class and for recreation. I actually really like writing horror when I'm not writing this, and I've been in that mindset more lately. I also get into a visual art mindset, and I can't write so much when I want to do visual art. The opposite is also true, which is why I haven't done any visual art all weekend *sob*.

Once again, if you are Australian and reading this, let me know if I mangle the accent. I get nervous about this because Australians in general seem like awesome people and I don't want to offend any or seem ignorant for not caring. Dialects and accents make for a better read if done right.

A week. That was how long it had been since the beginning of the world. Or at least, the beginning for Jack Frost. A week of solitude and questions and trying to pretend everything was fine.

The feeling of the ice and pond still lingered on his skin. He still recalled the warmth of the moon when he first saw it. Something still ached in his chest from the village and the child that had walked through him. The world was a blur of the new and the nice and the not-so-nice.

Loneliness was part of that 'not-so-nice' category. He wasn't even sure loneliness was the right word for it anymore. It was so much stronger after his first week. It was much more physical than the traditional sense of lonely. It was a weariness that spread to a tiredness in his head. It made considering his situation a monumental effort.

But it did sink in one night. He was alone and no effort on his part would fix it. He couldn't make friends when no one could see him. He intentionally hadn't been back to the village since that first night. He knew that it wouldn't make any difference, and he couldn't stand to feel the panic climbing his throat again. The tree branches above were coated in snow and ice. The only sound for miles was the soft cracks they made under the weight and the wind whipping around their trunks. There wasn't a fire to pierce the dark. Tears slid down his cheeks, heavy like the snow that fell.

He wondered why he had been reluctant to cry over his situation. No one could see him. He wouldn't be laughed at (how he'd love to even be laughed at). Maybe crying felt like defeat. He rubbed the moisture off his cheeks angrily with with his cloak. The tears froze and joined the rest of the ice coating the cloak.

The wind slowed to a breeze and brushed against his face. The wind was his only friend, though it could not talk to him. He could get a general feeling of it's desires and it's intent, however, and he knew that right now it wanted him to be happy. But he couldn't oblige. Couldn't do that one thing for his only friend. What good was he, anyway?

What was he, anyway?

This question had been haunting him since the very first hours of his existence, and he would've continued wandering and aimlessly dwelling on it, had it not been for the mass of fur he walked into.

"Was tha big ide-" the giant fur monster thing spoke english, apparently. It rounded on him, then its voice trailed off. "Who are you? And what in the bloody hell are ya doing out here in this mess?" the monster asked. Jack noted it's strange way of talking as he cowered against a tree.

"Wha-wha-what are you?!" he asked. His own voice sounded off as he heard it for the first time in days. It rasped a bit against his throat, mostly from disuse, but also because of the moisture still on his face. Then he froze. Figuratively and literally. In his shock ice shot from his fingertips down his staff and onto the fur monster's giant feet-like things. "You can see me?!" he asked.

"Oi! What the... that hurt! Of course I can see ya! I should be asking why you can see me! Aren't you a little old to believe in the Easter Bunny? I mean, not that there's anything wrong with that, but... wait, did ya just freeze my foot?" the creature was entirely too large and excited for Jack's comfort. He was happy to be seen, but not by something that might be able to kill him.

"S-sorry, I didn't mean it. It's just something I do, I guess." he replied with a shrug, edging away further.

"What? Well, that's beside tha point. Aren't ya cold out here in this weather? Where's ya home? Family?" the monster stepped towards him, and Jack scrambled all the way against the trunk of the tree.

"You're not going to eat me, are you?" he tried to brandish his staff in a menacing manner. He backed slightly behind the tree.

"Eat ya? Why would the Easter Bunny eat a child? Step out from behind that tree, ya gumby. I'm not goin' ta eat ya. Just tell me where ya home is so I can help ya get there." the creature demanded.

"Haven't got one. And what's an 'Easter Bunny'? You don't look like any bunny I've ever seen." Jack edged forward, eyes still narrowed. "Bunny as big as you'd make a big stew." he couldn't help but snicker.

"Now who's eating who?! You're twisted, mate. Too focused on eating people. When was the last time ya ate?" the monster that called itself an Easter Bunny cast a sideways glance at Jack's stomach. Or caved-in lack thereof.

"I haven't eaten." Jack replied, "You still haven't answered my question.".

"I get that ya haven't eaten, but since when? And I'll answer ya question in a minute! I swear to the moon, you're curious!" the bunny monster rolled it's large eyes and crossed it's arms.

"I've never eaten." Jack huffed.


Bunny monster's mouth was slightly open. Before he could back away, he grabbed Jack by one shoulder and hauled him into a small patch of moonlight.

"What are ya?" he asked, his eyes widening upon taking in white hair and freakishly blue eyes and skin almost as pale as the sky on a snowy morning.

"Well, my name's Jack Frost." Jack explained, "And I'm not quite sure what I am yet. Still trying to get a grip on things, you know.". He glanced up. Apparently he still needed to get a grip on the existence of giant rabbits.

"So you're not a normal child. You're something new. A spirit, I'm thinking." Bunny monster propped one arm up, his hand (or paw?) resting against his chin. He scowled in deep thought at Jack.

"A spirit? Does that mean I'm... uh... dead?" he asked. A lump rose in the back of his throat.

"No, I don't think so. Must've been chosen. Not sure why Man in Moon chose ya, but no worries. I'm sure ya will figure it out." the thing that said it was an Easter Bunny smiled. He glanced down and saw the ice crusting Jack's staff. "Ya must be a winter spirit of some sort. That would explain the unusual cold here.". The Easter Bunny began to walk away.

"W-wait! Where are you going?" Jack almost grabbed the creature's arm, but held back.

"I gotta go, mate. I just popped by to see why the weather here was so cold. I have'ta make sure everything's ready fa Easta. It's in a week." the Easter Bunny looked apologetic. Jack panicked a bit.

"B-but can I come with you? I won't be a pest, I swear!" Jack pleaded.

"Sorry, but I can't take ya with me. Ya wouldn't enjoy my warren. It's sorta balmy." the Easter Bunny glanced down at him and frowned. The disappointment on his face was somewhat tragic. "But no worries, alright? If Manny, that is tha Man in the Moon, made ya, then ya have'ta be good. Everything'll turn out alright." he almost reached down to ruffle the kid's hair, but held back.

"How can everything be alright? Nobody can see me, nobody can hear me, everything gets all icy when I touch it. I mean, that last part was fun at first, but now... And you're the only one I've met that can see me and you say you have to leave? Why is this happening?!" Jack scowled at the ground and shook his head.

"Chin up, mate. I'm not sure why you're here, but I have an idea. The cold here, already it's not so brutal. It's cold, but not the cold that hurts people. And the kids I saw at tha village, they were playing in tha snow. It's not so cold that their parents have'ta worry. I think you're making all that happen." the Easter Bunny smiled at him in the most reassuring way, and he couldn't help but smile back. "Maybe your version of winter is a nicer version?".

Jack smiled harder, even letting teeth show. But then a thought caught him, and the smile died. "But I still don't want to be alone." he argued, not delving too far into just how badly he didn't want to be alone. It wasn't the sort of thing he wanted to discuss with the Bunny creature he had only just met.

"I'm sorry. Look, I'll try ta visit ya as much as possible. I know it has ta be bad. I'm just very busy most of tha time." Bunny said. He knew it was a feeble attempt to assuage the kid's worries, but there wasn't much more he could offer. He really was busy.

"Th-thanks. I understand. I don't really know what an Easter Bunny does, but I guess it's important." Jack replied, head still bowed.

"I make children happy and protect them. It's my job. It is very important." the Easter Bunny stood up a bit taller, proud, "But I will visit, promise.".

"Thanks, Easter Bunny." Jack mumbled, half smiling at him.

"Just call me Bunny. And happy Easter, Frostbite!" Bunny turned and bounded away.

Jack watched him go, snickering a bit at the fact that he had a fluffy tail like a common rabbit. But then his laughter died and the snow started to fall heavier again. It was thick like the silence that surrounded him. He shivered, but, of course, not from the cold. He hoped that Bunny would visit again soon.

Something in the back of his head, some cynicism that had already formed, told him that he wouldn't.


It was 1968, and Jack was back home in Burgess. The US was a strange place to visit these days. The people around him were excited or outraged about something new practically everyday. Jack couldn't join in. The world changed around him, and he stayed the same. Spring was arriving, and everything was warming despite his presence. The world greened and warmed and changed, and Jack stayed the same.

He saw Bunny three days before Easter. The rabbit appeared every so often in the days before Easter every year, scouting out hiding places for eggs. Jack saw the smile on his face as he completed his work and the pride he didn't bother to hide.

He knew that in just three days, children would wake up and run outside, yelling about the Easter Bunny. They would grin so wide when they found Bunny's creations, and Bunny would feel so validated. After all, his work was important.

And even though it had been several hundred years, Jack could still vividly remember the night he first met Bunny. He remembered the promise he had not bothered to keep because he was so busy.

Jack was a bit ashamed of the blizzard of '68. He would never admit it to Bunny, but he regretted the disappointment on the children's faces so much. He especially regretted the vehement anger that had bubbled up in his throat. He regretted the fact that the whole thing was entirely premeditated and especially cruel. But he never regretted the inconvenience it brought Bunny. Nor the fact that Bunny bothered to seek him out for the first time. Even if it was just to yell at him. It was still a break from solitude.

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