“As Jack slashed his way through the fifth creature, he noticed that he was beginning to lose ground. This fight looked as if it was to be lost. There was no way he would be able to fight his way through all these goblins! Alas, it looked as if this poor lad was doomed!

“Then, suddenly, he heard a sound. A sound unlike any other, a sound as loud as thunder and as clear as…”

A thud breaks Elliot’s train of thought. He twists his chair around quickly to find his picture window open and Rabbit on the floor, settled upon all fours. She stands, arm folding behind her back as the other makes a small wave.

“Well, here I was thinking I was going to get a peaceful day’s work,” says Elliot as he tosses the manuscript onto his desk. It takes most of his will power not to yell at her for coming in so rudely. “Afternoon, Rabbit.”

“Halloa, Elliot,” says Rabbit with a cheery smile.

“Halloa,” Elliot nods, mimicking her grin. “How the hell did you get up here?”

“I climbed the lattice,” she points out the window.

“Of course!” He throws his hands into the air and stands, stomping past Rabbit to the opened window. “Of course, of course. Can’t be a good little savage without being able to climb, I suppose. Can't run with your little squirrel friends if ya can’t climb the trees, eh?”

Rabbit slips around Elliot without a sound. It irritates him that she never reacts to his insults. He is used to having people retort, or complain, or at least call him an asshole whenever he did it. This quiet nonchalance is new to him, and he doesn’t like it. One cannot argue if the other party doesn’t have the courtesy to fight back.

“Well, at least you’re clothed this time, eh?” This is greeted with silence. Elliot bristles and grabs the widow frame. “Feh.”

Elliot slams the window shut and turns to face Rabbit. By this time she has discovered the manuscript that he had left on the desk. She holds in her delicate hands, flipping the pages with care. He cannot tell if she is actually reading it or just skimming through. Her eyes are hard to see due to the long hair hanging before her face. One would think that ridiculous hat she’s wearing would keep it in place, he thinks with a scowl.

He takes a step towards her, but remembers that he left the window unlocked and halts. As he fastens the lock into place, Elliot glances outside to the yard bellow. His traps are empty. She probably released the birds before climbing the lattice.

“Have you nothing better to do than to bother me?” he says as he faces Rabbit.

She places the manuscript back onto the table and shrugs. Elliot takes this moment to inspect her appearance. It’s obvious that she isn’t used to wearing clothes. Anyone with the slightest bit of clothing knowledge would know that you shouldn’t wear baggy jeans with a scarf and bikini top. And, of course, she is wearing that stupid deerstalker of hers. Elliot feels that he will never understand her attachment to that dumb thing.

He looks to the floor and sighs an over dramatic sigh. He decides to toss in a slump of his shoulders and a palm to his forehead for added effect. With this new perspective, he discovers that she isn’t wearing shoes, again. Another groan passes his lips as he walks to the desk.

“Well?” he asks.

“Well?” She looks at him with a perplexed expression.

“Are you going to answer the question, my dear?”

“I just stopped by to say hello and to drop this off,” Rabbit reaches into one of her many pockets and draws out a letter. “I stopped in town to do some things. And I ended up getting the post and got yours along with ours.”

“You…You…” Elliot shakes his head. “You wot?”

“I got your mail.”

“Yes, I know that, but how?”

“The mail man gave it to me. I helped him deliver it today, in exchange for a ride intown.”

“You hitchhiked?”

“Yeah. It’s the only way to travel when Mom isn’t home to give me a ride. It’s either that or I walk.”

Elliot takes in a long breath and exhales, “So you just decided to take a ride with a man that could have raped and murdered you just so you could get intown? Are you mad, woman?”

“Mr. Patterson wouldn’t hurt me. This isn’t a big city, Elliot. People here are different.”

“That’s the understatement of the millennium.” Elliot reaches for an opened pack of cigarettes sitting atop one of the many piles on his desk. “I mean, in the city, there is a thing called a taxi. Oh, and in the city, young girls who run about in the buff are arrested for public indecency.”

Rabbit removes her hat to tuck a lock of hair into place. She puts it back on with a shrug and shuffles to the bedroom door.

“I wasn’t naked where people could see me,” she says, “I was on the beach.”

“Yes, on the beach, and in my yard. Where I could see you,” he points to himself, “Me. A man. A grown man. A man with the right to not worry about naked little jungle girls messing with my property and pilfering my post.”

She doesn’t respond as she opens the door. If there was one thing that bothered Elliot even more than rude entrances, it was the silent treatment. The nostrils of Elliot’s large, hooked nose flare and his hands clench into fists as he watches her leave. He then hears a loud crunch, which snaps him from his exasperated state. After turning his head to and fro a few times in search of the source of the sound, he looks to his hand. The package he held was crushed; the cigarettes broken or smashed.

“Dammit,” he says, throwing down the ruined pack onto the desk. “My mail…”

Elliot dashes out of the door and stops at the landing railing. Rabbit was now at the front door, unraveling her scarf.

“Hey, jungle girl! My post!” he shouts down at her.

A flicker of a scowl flashes on her face as she lifts her head to meet his gaze. “I left in on the hall table.”

“Oh? Where are you going?”

“I’m going back intown.”

“You’re not hitchhiking again!”

“Mom and Daisy are going to be gone until tonight, and I need to get back before the shops close!”

Wrinkles form upon Elliot’s forehead and the bridge of his nose as he frowns. “Wait there. I’ll give you a lift intown.”

“You don’t need to. I’ll walk.”

“Walk? It’s two miles!”

“A mile and a half, actually.” Rabbit wraps her scarf so that it hangs loosely upon her small shoulders. “See ya, Elliot.”

A third sigh comes from Elliot, this one louder and more dramatic than the last few.

“At least wear shoes!” he yells as she walks out the door. With a soft clack of a lock, she is gone. “Dammit.”