A Prinzessin to Match the Prinz

banner by Oonagh Brown || interacting as Hans Jenssen

She was the first thing Hans saw when he pushed open the high-reaching oak doors of his grandfather’s manor in the countryside of Berlin.

No housekeepers, no business meetings, no fancy suits, just him and his Opa and well, now it seemed, a bunny. She was sat in a wide gift box, and as he glanced around the empty entrance hall, Hans spotted a spacious cage to the side, already awaiting with a bowl of water and laid out food. Yet while her mane of light tan hair resembled the one of a little lion, she was far more timid than how the carnivore was usually portrayed to be. Curled into a ball on the side of the pink enclosure, she raised one lazy eye to Hans and sniffed about at the air, before retreating back, not so much out of fear but a seemingly introverted nature as she returned her attention to the sides of cardboard.

Well, at least he had dealt with enough people like that; why not introduce an animal to their midst? Oddly enough though, when he tried, their amiable sides usually shown, though as Hans made to grab a carrot from the cage, he halted and knelt down, those black watery eyes tethering him to place. There seemed to be a quiet, wordless understanding, a call for boundaries from the new, slightly anxious creature he was more than willing to respect. The little bunny seemed to have just been brought to the world mere weeks ago, wide-eyed, innocent, beautiful. The rabbit made no move to step forward, but as she stretched against the sides, not particularly returning his gregariousness but comfortable in his presence, Hans' own eyes sparkled in return. Was there ever a companion cuter?

Hans didn’t raise his head as the familiar clink of footsteps approached, no tenseness in reaction to the sudden movement in his direction, just the quiet comfort he had always found in the man know behind his kneeling figure. No one needed to have said anything for him to have known this was a gift of his doing, and to the man that spoilt him rotten, “danke” was excused from his vocabulary. The beaming smile on his face was enough for the both of them.

Before greetings could have been exchanged, he spoke decisively, smiling up at his Opa as he stroke her fur, as if naming a newborn baby, “Prinzessin Leia.”