Winter.
Swearing to herself, Leeta gets out of bed, wraps a blanket around herself and exits the bedroom. "Why hasn't that damn rabbit started the fire in the kitchen yet?" Then, spotting Kerr -- or rather, one of his long ears poking out from under the blanket -- she walks over to his pallet and gives him a good kick where she judges that his rear should be, yelling, "Get up lazy-bones!"
Groan. Cough!
Not getting any reaction, except the ominous sounds, the puma grabs his blanket and yanks it off, then drops it as she sees Kerr's face; eyes sore and encrusted in a white goo, dried drivel all over his muzzle, his ears almost red with irritation and increased bloodflow, his body shivering and a large yellow, and very smelly, stain around his crotch. "Damn!"
"Leeta, what is it?" Miera asks from the doorway. "Why hasn't Kerr started making breakfast yet?"
Picking up the blanket and covering the rabbit, the puma replies, "He's sick." Stepping over to the panther she adds, "You better start a fire, then I'll go find the doctor."
When Leeta returns with an elderly wolverine an hour later she finds a worried-looking Miera sitting next to Kerr's pallet, washing his face with a cloth.
"That's the patient, a rabbit?" the wolverine huffs, nodding towards Kerr.
"Yes," Miera responds. Giving Kerr's face a last wipe with the cloth she asks, "Is there anything you can do?"
Grumbling a bit the wolverine opens his bag and takes out a wooden spatula. Then he grasps the rabbit's head and, after sniffing, he forces the rabbit's muzzle open and pushes his tongue aside with the spatula to look down his throat. "Well," he finally states, "I suggest boiling in water with a cup of oil and some sweet herbs. That should remove any taste of the disease."
"B-but..." Miera stutters, "we don't want to boil him. Isn't there anything that can be done to cure him?"
"Of course there is," the wolverine replies. "He has what we call 'rabbit fever', and normally it isn't fatal, but... this is just about the worst case I've ever seen. He has no conscious muscle control and can't even control his bladder. He'll need continuous nursing the next eight-day, and won't be of any use for maybe two or three more."
"I'll go put the kettle on," Leeta states, moving towards the kitchen.
"Don't you dare!" Miera growls.
"Just kidding!" Leeta retorts. "As if I would boil your cuddle-bunny. You know I prefer rabbits roasted!"
"Do you want to save the rabbit?" the wolverine interjects. "If so I suggest you heat some water."
"Yes Mallak," Leeta responds meekly as she continues into the kitchen.
Grabbing a wide bowl the wolverine dumps spoonfull of herbs and some oil into it, then fills it almost to the brim with boiling water. "Cover his head with a towel and let him breathe in the steam," he orders.
Miera moves the bowl to the side of his pallet, then carefully lifts his head over it with one paw and grabs for a towel with her other. "What is it for?" she asks.
"It helps clear out the mucus in his muzzle and throat and helps him to breathe easier," the doctor replies. Then he takes another bag of herbs and spoons some of the contents into another bowl. Adding a few leaves of another plant he crushes it with a pestle and adds water until he has a thick green-brown liquid which he filters through a linen cloth into a small pot.
"What's that?" Leeta asks, puzzled.
"Your work for the next eight-day," the wolverine replies. "It eases the pains in his joints. Mix a spoon-full of it in a cup of juice and make him drink it four times a day; morning, midday, evening and midnight. If you heat it a bit it should go down more easily."
"He's your bunny, Miera," the puma states testily, "you take the midnight and morning shift!"
Cough! Gasp!
As the warm liquid flows down his throat the rabbit slowly drifts back to consciousness. Opening his eyes he stares into a black-furred face. Black fur? he thinks confusedly.
Seeing his eyes open the female's face brightens for a moment. Smiling she puts down the cup she's holding and leans forward.
Black fur, he again thinks, pointy ears and sharp teeth? SHARP TEETH! Squealing he tries to push her away only to find that his body isn't responding.
Seeing the terror in his face the panther backs off for a moment. "Kerr," she whispers soothingly, "it's me; Miera. Don't you remember me?" As he still struggles to move she wraps her slender arms around him and hugs him, pushing his muzzle deep into her cleavage while whispering, "My poor little cuddle-bunny. Rest and get well while your dear Miera takes care of you. Rest."
Soon exhaustion takes its toll and the rabbit's eyes closes again.
"Sleep and get well," the panther whispers, even lower than before, "get well my dear, dear Kerr."
Whimper.
"Is the poor little cuddle-bunny hurting?"
A paw slips behind Kerr's head to lift it and a cup is pressed against his thin lips. The warm liquid trickles down his throat and slowly brings a blessed relief to his aching body. Finally, as the cup drains he opens his eyes to stare straight into the face of a puma, sharp teeth, whiskers, slitted eyes and all. "Leeta?" he whispers.
"Oh, good!" she exclaims, "you remember me! The last time you woke in my arms you wet the bed." Picking up a bowl she asks, "Hungry?"
"No," he replies weakly.
"The doctor told us you wouldn't have much of an appetite," the puma states, "but you've only had some fruit juices to sustain you for the last eight-day." Then she picks a piece of fruit from the bowl and crams it into his mouth. "Chew, swallow and open up for the next piece!" she orders.
A few minutes later, when Kerr begins to sag, Leeta places the bowl back on the floor, then strips off her tunic and slips into bed next to the rabbit.
"What?" he asks, confused, "Why?"
"You're warm," she replies as she pulls him close. "It's cold in here without you to keep the fire burning."
Knock knock!
"Hello?"
Hearing the light, almost apologetic voice pulls Leeta from her dooze. "Come in!" she calls out.
The door opens and a slender female raccoon enters. Looking at the puma snuggled up to the rabbit she begins, "I just came to..."
"See if the bunny is feeling better?" Leeta finishes for her. "He woke and recognised me earlier today." Slipping a slender arm out from under the blanket she waves the raccoon towards the bed. "Come closer; I won't bite." Then after a mischievous grin she adds, "Well, all right; I bite, but I don't mean any harm..."
"Thank you," the raccon mumbles, approaching slowly and sits down on the edge of the bed. Reaching out with her right paw she gently strokes the rabbit's long, white ears, making him sigh in his sleep. "Why are you in bed with him?" she suddenly asks.
"It's cold in here, and he's warm," Leeta responds, grinning. "And you? There's room for you, too, in here."
"I couldn't..."
"Of course you can!" the puma retorts. "It's not the same as those afternoons in the garden, but he's still cuddly." As the raccoon shyly lifts a corner of the blanket she asks, "Do you normally wear clothes to bed?"
Now even more shy the raccoon turns around, slips out of her clothes and slips under the blanket to snuggle up to the sleeping rabbit, sighing happily.
A few moments later the puma's left arm slips around the rabbit to rest on the raccoon's tail. "You don't mind if I stroke your tail, do you?" she whispers, "it's so long, soft and bushy."
"I..." the raccoon stutters.
"Hush," the puma whispers, "you don't want to wake Kerr, do you?" The next minute or two she doesn't speak, only stroke the raccoon's tail and watches as she slowly relaxes and begins to respond to the treatment by murring softly. "So," she suddenly asks, "are the bears treating you well? Is the female still hugging you too tightly?"
"They're quite nice when you get to know them," the raccoon replies softly, "and I'm getting used to the hugging. Besides, they're sleeping most of the time, right now, so there's not much to do."
"That's nice," Leeta whispers. "It's nice, laying here, beside Kerr, isn't it?"
"Yes..." Then, after a short break the raccoon asks, "Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course, dear."
"What do you and Miera do?"
"Kerr hasn't told you?" Leeta asks, surprised. "What do you know about the Creators?"
"Aren't they just an old legend?"
"Afraid not," the puma responds. "We've been looking for evidence about them for the last ten years. Mostly we only find old stories, but there are too many things we can't explain; like the horseless wagon Miera and I were transporting when we found Kerr. It was built by moles about a hundred years ago, but not even they really knows how it works. We believe they were here less than a thousand years ago, but we can't make out what happened to them."
"Maybe they died?"
"If so, where are their bones? What's even stranger is that some of the oldest records we've found indicates that all the races lived together peacefully; no predation or slavery."
"Sounds nice."
"Almost like us?" the puma asks, squeezing the raccoon's tail playfully.
people have read this story...
What? You were expecting hot, steamy sex?
Not even Leeta is that insensitive!
Shame on you for even thinking about sex when Kerr is seriously ill!