Oswald and Ortensia had once been the kingdom’s first sweethearts, their silhouettes stitched into the hearts of audiences long before Mickey and Minnie ever graced the stage. Their romance wasn’t just charming—it was revolutionary, a partnership of equals forged in wit, mischief, and devotion. Over the years, their love ripened into marriage, and together they nurtured a sprawling family: four hundred and twenty bright-eyed little rabbits, each one bouncing with boundless energy.

Life, however, wasn’t always soft edges and roses. Oswald’s work often kept him away—long hours in the studio, demanding appearances, endless obligations that tugged him from the hearth. Ortensia, steady and resourceful, anchored their household. She managed the chaos of hundreds of children with grace that astonished even herself. Still, there were nights when loneliness pressed on her, when she wished her husband’s laughter echoed in the halls more often.

Yet Oswald always knew how to remind her of their bond. Even in his fatigue, he’d find a way to spark her smile, to draw her close until her frustrations melted like sugar in tea.

Years passed until, at last, fate granted him reprieve. His workload lightened, and he was able to remain home—to truly live within the walls of the family he had helped build. But in his newfound presence came a revelation: Oswald had no idea how to handle children in such numbers. He was a performer, a dreamer, a rascal at heart—not a nurturer. Often, he would call to Ortensia in a half-whisper, trying to disguise the plea for guidance. And though his pride resisted, he needed her wisdom, and he knew it.

One afternoon, the house hummed with its usual symphony of tiny voices and scampering feet. Ortensia was in the kitchen, carefully tending to a simmering stew, her apron dusted with flour and her ears twitching at every distant sound.

Suddenly, the steady rhythm of the home was shattered. Oswald burst into the room, his ears bent low and his eyes wide with panic.

“Ortensia!” he gasped, his voice high with urgency.

She set down her spoon at once, her heart tightening. She knew that tone—it could only be about the children. “What is it, Oswald?” she asked, bracing herself.

He swallowed hard, his paws fidgeting at his sides, before blurting out the unthinkable:

“I… I lost the children!”