Chronicle III – Briar Rabbit
There is more than one way to survive in Faerina — cold steel, exceptional stealth, and a biting wit — to name a few. Throughout his adventuring career, Briar Rabbit has wielded the latter as proficiently as a woodsman wields an axe. And despite his diminutive stature, he has chopped many a foe down to size with his scathing quips.
“The world won’t explore itself, you know.”
Briar Rabbit Variations - Concept art by: Ivan Koltovich
Lost in Wanderlust
Exploration and migration have always been core threads in the fabric of Briar’s life. He and his family moved to the Burrow Downs when he was still a kit — their old rabbitfolk colony teetering on the edge of failure. His zeal for the unknown persisted through adulthood, when he dedicated himself to the pursuit of cartography — altruistically charting the forgotten corners of Faerina for all creatures to learn from.
At least, that is what he publicly claims. He often repeats this lofty ambition with a well-practiced flourish — perhaps to convince himself as much as anyone else. Or maybe his endless adventures are an outlet for a deeper agitation. Surely, even this restless soul has a home to return to? It is difficult to say. All it takes is a single rumor or the slightest whiff of information about an unfamiliar locale — and again, he is off like a rabbit to a carrot.
The Art of the Barbed Tongue
Years of harrowing adventures have taught Briar Rabbit the fine art of disorienting his foes with a flurry of verbal jabs and haymakers. He has an astute comment for every occasion, a lethal rebuttal for every argument, and a tension-breaking quip for every moment of heavy silence. It is a natural reflex he has honed to perfection, and many would-be predators have walked away with empty stomachs and bruised egos.
Yet, beneath this thick layer of sarcastic wit lies a tormented soul whose tides of self-loathing could drown an entire forest. Booze and tobacco have become his preferred traveling companions, but they are drops of water in a bottomless well. Still, the temporary oblivion they provide is far safer than confronting his sorrows.
His chance encounter with Red in the heart of the Enchanted Forest is an unlikely one. Perhaps it was fated — a gift from unseen forces to pierce the ennui engulfing his heart. Perhaps seeing this child’s dedication to finding her missing father figure will spark a moment of introspection. And perhaps seeing her confront the deadliest creatures Faerina has to offer will embolden Briar to battle his own demons.