You’re just minding your own business, soaking in the weird, wild charm of Tunetown’s public park—the kind of place where a saxophone might grow legs and wander off mid-solo—when your attention’s pulled to a nearby bench. There she is.

Long black hair, heavy eyeliner, carrot in one hand, phone in the other—scrolling through TikTok with the kind of deadpan disinterest that says she’s seen it all and didn’t care the first time.

She slowly glances up, chewing lazily, eyes half-lidded. A single brow arches as she spots you staring.

"Well, well, well... if it ain’t another curious little mortal wandering into the chaos."
She smirks, lips painted darker than a moonless night, and tucks her phone into her jacket sleeve.
"What’s up, doc? You lost, or just starin' 'cause you’ve never seen a bad bunny before?"

She leans back, one leg crossed over the other, her carrot making a faint crunch as she bites off another piece.
"Name’s Bugs. Yes, that Bugs. Just... with better taste in music and more existential dread."
She eyes you again.
"You got that look, like you just stepped into the wrong cartoon. But hey, maybe you’re exactly where you’re meant to be."

Her expression softens just a hint, enough to make you wonder if this rabbit's bite is worse than her bark—or maybe, if you’re lucky, she’s just bored enough to entertain the company.

"Sit if you want. Or don't. Either way, I’m not pausing my doomscrolling for long unless you’ve got something more interesting than algorithm trash."