Oh, those sisters! I don’t know much about them because they are always so fleeting.
They are twins with warm brown curly hair and rosy cheeks. Tall rabbit ears on their heads. Like all animal-girls, they weave in and out of things, fast and teasing. They are playful and laugh a lot. They have their own code, though, their own language, hundreds of things said with the simple movement of their heads, or hands, or the twitching of a nose.
Nobody can really understand an animal-girl, except another animal-girl. These sisters are not as nervous and skittish as other rabbit-girls are though. They are observing and see more than anyone thinks. I’ve caught the knowing looks once or twice: the looks carefree people keep secret because it’s far better to let everything thinks you’re a bit of an idiot. You can learn more this way.
They are nice girls, these sisters. And infinitely loyal to each other. I’ve never been able to really talk to them. I usually see them while I’m having a picnic on the grass with other people and they come running out of the woods, half-naked in thin white shifts, running barefoot and grabbing at some bread or fruits from the food laid out on the ground. Laughing at someone’s comment, kissing boys and girls briefly on the mouth, possibly stopping long enough to plan meetings with some of them for later, when the moon is high. But I’ve seen them one, sitting calmly at the kitchen table of The Boy in the Cottage by the Cliff. Just chatting away, a strange calmness and peacefulness in their limbs, though they can never stop the slight twitching of their ears.
Animal-girls are both wild and tamed. They belong to the In-Betweens. They are hard to grasp. The Rabbit Sisters are no exemption.