No one ever talks about the aftermath of a battle. Not in an accurate way. The blood, the viscera, the stench of voided bowels… even if those bowels only held pellets of digested grass and seeds… the stink is something they never catch in the paintings of the “Glorious Victory (?)".

  We’d broken the foxes in the end. Coordinated assaults from squads of bunnies had gradually worn them down, but our own losses had been heavy. I looked out over the battlefield and my fluffy tail shook with grief and rage. And… something else.

  Dozens of the orange bastards were scattered around and my noble troops were slowly starting to drag the bodies away from the warren. They’d been smart and coordinated, far more so than foxes should be, but they hadn’t been enough to deal with us. With me.

  Hastily trained teams of does had formed the attack groups, throwing themselves against the monstrous wannabe-dogs. The ladies had shown me the real meaning of valour. Shredding skin, muscle and fur with their teeth, and breaking bones with vicious kicks from their hindlegs.

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  The grass was strewn with the enemy, but also with far too many of our own dead. Scores of bunnies had fallen in the battle, nobly throwing themselves into the maws of the vile beasts in order to buy time for their brothers and sisters to strike a vital blow.

  I sighed. Reincarnating as a [Fluffy Bunny] had come as a shock. The attack of the orange beasts had been a nightmare, but as the dust settled I assessed my skills.

  Level 3 Fluffy Bunny

  Class: Breeder

  Skills:

  Strategist

  Enhanced Physique

  Fecund

  Permanently Horny

  I flashed a toothy smile, long incisors catching the sun, as I eyed the ladies awaiting my efforts to rebuild the colony.