"The Pilgrim", a mini story.
The rain had only gotten worse. His bags and clothes were so drenched that he felt as if he weighed twice as much as when he left, despite having ate so very little on the journey. The rabbit could barely see what was in front of him, but finally, he could recognize the promised etching in the stone above the large entrance.
He climbed up a few stairs, almost slipping and falling on one of them, barely catching himself at the top, his paws and a knee sinking in a puddle of water. The rabbit heard the doors open, and steps on the wet floors approaching.
"Are you alright, child?", asked a mellow voice. When he looked up, he was greeted by fur tinted in vivid striking patterns, the traits of of a lion, hooded in colorful clothes.
Another one, a wolf, he could almost perceive, also dressed in the same colorful garments, approached and grabbed his large shoulder bag. He wanted to resist out of insinct, but his body was suddenly lifted up by his other arms, the lion putting him back on their feet.
"Are you hurt?" he was asked.
The child looked at the other one who was now standing, just a feet behind, still silent and holding the bag. "No, I'm just... I'm cold. My bag–"
"Such a storm is no place for anyone to be in. What brings you here, little one?" the lion asked, their large paw holding the younger one's shoulder.
After a brief moment of hesitation, still staring at the few things he had left being withheld with unknowable intent, the rabbit pondered on their path. Fearing what could happen if he was in the wrong place. But drenched, hungry, and exhausted, the rabbit moved his gaze back to the stone entrance, and meekly pointed at a very specific etching. The very one that brought him here, so far from what couldn't be home.
"Aah, of course." the lion smiled. "Tell us true, young one. Are you fleeing someone?"
The rabbit looked down at the floor, hesitating.
"Those of ill intent are not permitted on these grounds." the wolf spoke up, a deeper voice than was assumed. "You will be protected."
"Indeed." the one holding his shoulder, approved. "I cherish the name Trila, I am him, acolyte of our sanctuary." he said, his other hand pull on his chest.
"And I cherish the name Kosorvae, I am them, acolyte of our sanctuary." the other one added.
The hold on the shoulder became a gentle caress. "Who comes before us? A brother, a sister, a sibling out of the alignment?" he asked.
"A– a brother." the rabbit answered timidly, almost unsure of what was appropriate as a response.
"Hm. A brother." Trila smiled.
"Yes." Kosorvae appreciated.
"And tell us, little one", the lion questioned, "is a brother what this one wishes to be?" He paused for an answer unforthcoming. "Or perhaps this one to be something else? A sister, perchance?"
The rabbit's hazel eyes looked down at the floor, feeling shelter from the storm in a word that had never once been used to describe them. From their pleading gaze, followed an approving nod in quick, trembling movements.
With a smile, Trila's paw moved up from the rabbit's shoulder, up into their neck, to the base of their cheek. A finger, pushing away one of the large ear which, looking resigned. The man leaned forward, his comforting face facing his listener's wariness. "Welcome home, little sister."
The rabbit's eyes widened, ears rising up as if searching the sun hidden behind the dark clouds, leaving a little mouth opening with so much to say and no words to carry the message.
"Come, sister." Kosorvae proposed, with a paw to grab. "We should take shelter."
A final doubt questioned once more, but a paw given to be guided, they welcomed her in, because no one else would even allow themselves to see her.
Originally written
2025-09-10, edited and finalized2026-08-17.