But It Has Horns
Lizzy looked at the rabbit trembling with its head half-hidden inside the cloth bag.
She had a faint memory of raising a rabbit before. It was when she was very young—probably a little older than Dorothy was now. Back then, she had thought rabbits were incredibly big.
But the one she was looking at now… well, it wasn’t exactly small, but it wasn’t as big as she remembered either. As a child, she had thought rabbits were as big as herself.
Maybe it’s because I’ve grown up.
Thinking about it, there was no way a rabbit could be as big as a child. Memories were strange like that. Maybe it was because she had only seen a rabbit once that it had seemed so large.
In the village where she used to live, hardly anyone raised rabbits. There probably wasn’t a suitable place nearby for wild rabbits to live.
She had heard that in larger villages, some people raised rabbits in greater numbers. But in a small village like hers, rabbits were truly rare.
The only reason her family had one was because her father had found an injured rabbit that couldn’t move and brought it back from a neighboring village.
She and her siblings fed it grass and raised it, but it didn’t last long. It wasn’t that the family ate it—it was probably sold to a merchant or someone else.
Ah, right!
This might be an opportunity.
Juhwan wasn’t used to this kind of life. Living with him, she had come to realize that. He was so clumsy with commoner life that she thought he must have once been a noble.
Thinking about how he hadn’t even known what flint was, he must have lived a life where everything was done for him. Since he was a great magician, maybe that was only natural. She didn’t know how he had become a criminal, but he must have originally belonged to a high status.
He probably didn’t know how to raise rabbits either.
This was her chance to show that she was a useful wife.
A chance to escape being just a woman who couldn’t do anything properly and only received help.
She wanted to appear reliable—to be seen as a good wife, a capable woman. The thought made her heart race with urgency.
First, I need to take this rabbit out of the bag.
But there was nowhere to put it right away. Normally, livestock were kept inside during winter, but this rabbit had just been caught in the wild. If she left it alone, it might escape the moment the door opened.
“...”
Rabbit… rabbit… where should I put it?
As she fumbled in confusion, she suddenly heard laughter.
Dorothy, still in Juhwan’s arms, was covering her mouth with both hands and giggling.
“Lizzy, you look silly.”
Her small voice peeked through her hands.
Juhwan wasn’t making a sound, but he was smiling too. His usually sharp eyes had softened into crescent shapes as he looked at her.
Dorothy’s laughter, her husband’s gaze—it made her feel strangely embarrassed.
It felt like her impure intention had been exposed—her attempt to use this moment to prove her worth and gain affection.
“Hahaha! Lizzy’s face is red!”
Dorothy laughed loudly, still covering her mouth. As if following her, Juhwan pulled Lizzy into an embrace and chuckled softly.
“Lizzy, cute.”
“Dorothy too!”
The child shouted from his other arm.
“Dorothy, cute.”
Juhwan laughed and hugged them both.
At that moment—
Something suddenly jumped.
Startled, all three turned toward the bag.
The rabbit had burst out and was now dashing wildly around the house.
“Aaaah!”
Dorothy screamed—or laughed—and jumped out of Juhwan’s arms, chasing after it.
The small rabbit darted around, knocking into things, with Dorothy chasing right behind. Objects fell from the table with loud crashes.
“Oh no! Dorothy, stop! Don’t! Ah—there’s flour!”
It wasn’t just falling objects that were a problem. If Dorothy tripped and fell into the fireplace, it would be disastrous. The house was made of wood.
The rabbit, Dorothy, the house—everything was dangerous in more ways than one.
Ignoring her calls, Dorothy kept running, so Lizzy began chasing her too.
Sounds of things falling, the rabbit running, the child tumbling—it all echoed chaotically.
Seeing Lizzy pale, Juhwan also grew concerned. His large body moved as he chased Dorothy, then the rabbit.
The house became complete chaos, the whole family running after the rabbit—or the child.
Then suddenly, without anyone starting it—
They all began to laugh.
Dorothy lay sprawled on the floor, laughing loudly. Beside her, Juhwan laughed too.
Lizzy stood there, catching her breath, looking at the mess.
How will I clean all this…?
No—before that, when will that rabbit stop running?
It was still running.
As she stood there blankly, a thought suddenly came to her.
Ah… I’m happy.
A smile finally broke across her face.
There was a place a bit far from the house where bamboo grew thickly.
Gus had shown it to him. At the time, Juhwan hadn’t realized it, but it was probably where bamboo for arrows was selected.
Later, Juhwan himself would come here to choose wood and make arrows. That must be why Gus had told him about it.
Juhwan cut down thick bamboo and loaded it onto the carrier frame he had made a few days earlier.
The bamboo stacked high, towering above the frame. Once he tied it tightly with rope, it looked less like a load and more like a bamboo monster.
Even with his strength, he wondered if he could carry it.
No choice. I don’t have time to make multiple trips.
There was still some time before sunset.
But in the mountains, darkness came suddenly. One moment it seemed slightly dimmer—and the next, it was night.
So he always had to keep track of the time and return home before it got dark.
He had once misjudged it and walked through pitch-black mountain paths, relying on a small flame on his fingertip.
That small fire had felt like a blessing.
Not encountering a beast had been pure luck. At the time, he had even thought Santa might have helped him.
Juhwan crouched, pressed his back against the frame, and lifted it.
The load swayed slightly as it rose.
The rope dug into his shoulders—it would have hurt if he hadn’t padded it with leather.
After steadying himself, he began walking.
It wasn’t as uncomfortable as he expected. He had modeled it after traditional carriers he had seen at his grandfather’s house.
He hadn’t used a single nail—just shaped wood and fitted it together.
Maybe I have a talent for carpentry.
If he ever left the mountains, maybe he could live as a carpenter.
That might not be so bad.
Thinking of Dorothy’s future, he knew they might have to go to a city someday.
As he walked, something caught his eye.
Blood on the snow.
Red droplets scattered—but no footprints.
“...”
He stopped and listened.
No sign of beasts—just distant bird calls.
Still, he set down the load and approached carefully with his axe.
Nearby, there were signs of a struggle.
His eyes widened.
A tiny baby rabbit lay there, motionless.
It was smaller than his palm.
Maybe a bird had tried to carry it off and failed.
Is it dead?
The blood was still fresh.
He reached out—
“…Oh.”
It was still warm.
A faint pulse.
Juhwan held it and sent magic into it.
The wounds didn’t heal instantly, but they improved slightly.
Not sure if it’ll survive…
He tucked the baby rabbit into his clothes and continued home.
It never woke up.
“Mom! Why does the baby rabbit have horns?”
Dorothy tilted her head, touching the small bump hidden in its fur.
Lizzy laughed softly.
“I don’t think rabbits have horns.”
“But—”
Dorothy stopped.
The rabbit’s eyes opened.
“Mom! The baby rabbit opened its eyes!”
And just like that—
She completely forgot about the horns.