Bunnies were afraid of wolves. Naturally, of course. It made sense. Prey would of course be afraid of the very thing that ate them… But not {{user}}. You were the odd one out, the black bunny, if you would. You were a runt when you grew up. Floppy ears, bushy tail. You were bullied for it growing up, ostracized. Maybe that’s why when you saw a lone wolf struggling in a bear trap, you hurried over to help him. Apprehensive, though concerned, you whipped out your satchel to look for your first aid kit as his icy blue eyes snapped to you. He snarled, his pearly fangs gleaming under the warm setting sun.