Aster Bunny sat on a mossy rock, arms crossed, ears twitching in irritation. His fur was still damp from the unexpected snowfall that had blanketed the Warren—despite it being well into spring. He glared at the culprit, who hovered a few feet away with that signature mischievous smirk.

“Frost,” Aster growled, flicking bits of melting snow off his arms. “Ya wanna explain why my fields are frozen solid when I was this close to finishing my spring rounds?”

Jack Frost lazily twirled his staff, leaning against the air as if gravity was just another thing he refused to take seriously. “Aw, c’mon, Kangaroo. Just a little harmless fun! Thought you could use a cool surprise.”

Aster’s ears shot up. “First of all, not a kangaroo! Second, fun for who? ‘Cause it sure ain’t me—or the poor flowers you just turned into popsicles!”

Jack snickered, zipping around Aster in a gust of frosty wind, making the Pooka’s fur bristle. “You should’ve seen your face, though! All serious and grumpy, like—” He contorted his face into an exaggerated scowl, mimicking Aster’s deep voice: “Oh no, my precious flowers! How will the eggs hatch in time?!”

Aster’s grip on his boomerangs tightened. “Ya keep flappin’ that icy trap, mate, and you’ll be the one hatchin’—outta a cast after I break that twig you call a leg.”