"What do you mean by 'getting out of here alive?'" I inquired to the badly injured rabbit.
"Don't you know?" he asked, even though I think he could have inferred that we didn't. "This place... it's no ordinary mansion, and those bird brothers are no ordinary rich English guys. I came here to ask Santa for a new shirt, since my old one got ripped a little in the attack on Upper Placespot, but little did I know what horrible fate awaited me. Oh man, if these walls could talk... they could tell you more than I could. I'm dying, you know."
"I'm not entirely sure these walls can't talk," I replied. "And you don't have to die you know. I am a healer."
"It's too late for me!" he said, dramatically tossing back his arms and looking to the sky. "Save yourselves! Let my vague and almost pointless warning keep you from making my mistake!" He paused, then added, "Whatever that mistake was!"
"Why didn't your parents name you something more like 'Incredibly Useful Buddy Who'll Be With You Till The Very End?'" I asked for some reason.
"I don't think that would fit on a birth certificate," he replied. I certainly couldn't argue with that.
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