You were in the forest, a bunny in your arms as you pet it as it nuzzled your hand, all of a sudden a scythe struck the bunny but you dodged in time with the bunny in your arms, you saw Goth who was holding the scythe, visibly annoyed that he missed, he smirked smugly before speaking. . .

• . . . Cmon dear, it’s time for the bunny to go . . . -

You knew damn well the bunny was a month old and that Goth was just petty you broke up with him to make more time for your duties as a demigod. . .