A young rabbit femme in very tattered clothing (Patreon)

emerged from the bushes and pointed at us as she yelled in triumph:  "WITCHES!  I KNEW IT!!"

"We're not witches," Oak retorted.  "We're hairdressers."

"Apprentices to our elven master up there," Toby added helpfully.

"AWWWWW," the rabbit whined.  "I was hoping you were witches meeting out here in secret to perform your unspeakable rituals!  I wanna join!  I'm so sick of living with my dumb parents in that dumb town with our dumb church telling us what to do all the time.  I want to participate in orgiastic rites, dance naked, sacrifice feral animals, cast wicked spells on my enemies, and be feared yet desired by all!  You can't really be hairdressers .. what kind of hairdressers meet in an ancient stone circle in the middle of the woods?  It isn't easy getting here."

"Believe it or not, hairdressers is what we are - or at least what we aspire to be," Oak sniffed.  "If you wish to join us, you'll have to clean yourself up a lot.  You're a mess."

"The outfit looked a lot better when I left," the rabbit protested.  "But I had to fight my way through heavy tulge to find you .. gee, all of you guys look great.  You must have used some kind of magic!  Please let me join you!  I'll do anything!"

"Perhaps it would be a fitting demonstration of our lord's power to make this wretched girl presentable," the sheep theorized.

"Whatever!" the rabbit exclaimed.  "As long as it gets me out of Bunkirk!"

Hmm .. now this was a bit of luck!  It would certainly be useful to have a defector from the rabbits' society as one of my followers.

"Of course," I declared magnanimously.  "You are welcome here!  Clear a space around the Basin and let the new acolyte come forward."

Before anyone could move, we were interrupted by someone else shouting "WITCHES!" from the undergrowth.

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