Orange. This was the first thing you saw through your eyelids as you were roused from slumber. Slowly cracking your eyes open, you see the glow of the morning sun peeking in past the curtains to your and your husband's bedroom, gently casting off the darkness that once filled the room. You let out a long yawn and look at the alarm clock to your side, informing you it's still the early hours of the morning. Wanting nothing more than to press your head back into the pillow and let the warmth lull you back to sleep, you could feel that something was off despite your drowsy state. You rub at the corners of your tired eyes, realizing your special someone was absent from beside you.
 
You sit up in the bed, the covers falling off to reveal your naked form to the world. Contrasting the warm light of the room was a chill in the air that forced its way past your grey fur and bit into your warm flesh, but was also paired with the crippling fear of isolation as you looked around desperately for your loving husband. It was only after you met him that you truly began to crave the touch of another and the soft comfort he brings as he sleeps beside you. Without him, you feel cold. As your feet touch the carpeted floors, your lopped ears twitch ever so slightly as you hear something in the house. A quiet cry followed by a loving coo. Your daughter woke up before you and her father came to them. Relief washes over you as you sigh out the breath you were holding in, silencing your fear of being abandoned. Though, before you could grab your bathrobe and meet with your husband, a small thought came to your groggy mind: Why were you afraid of him abandoning you?
 
Deciding it to be nothing more than your weary mind jumping to the worst conclusion, you push this thought aside and leave for the shower with your bathrobe in tow. As you lay the robe on the sink, your eyes drift to the mirror reflecting your body and showing the many changes it underwent after birthing your little girls. The visible muscles in your legs, arms, and abs have softened, giving way to the baby weight and inactivity to create a softer look. Your once palmable breasts now hang heavily from your chest, both when paired with your now wider hips and more padded rear give your once intimidating look an air of motherhood and care. Finally, the dewlap layer of plush fur and fat lying just above your breasts, always peeking out of any shirt or jacket for all to see. A true testament to motherhood for any rabbit, even for one of your towering stature and regretful past.
 
You step into the shower and quickly wash yourself, shedding any remnants of sleep and drowsiness as you lather your hair and the fur along your body, further reminiscing on your past body. Afterward, you quickly dry your hair and throw on your bathrobe, leaving the bathroom with a hastened step to find your lover in the living room. Giving another sigh of relief, you smile as you see your human husband cradling the small, brown baby rabbit daughter close to his chest. Her eyes are closed as she rests against him, with his focus put onto her and he gently sways her. You take a seat beside him and wrap an arm around him, breaking his attention for just a moment to look at you before looking back to his daughter. As you rest your head on top of him and sigh contently, you begin to feel him struggling ever so slightly against your hold.

Concerned, you shift your head to the side to look at him, but the moment you do all struggles ceased as he's still carefully holding your baby bun. Deciding it was nothing more than him trying to get more comfortable, you drop your slight worry as a smile returns to your face. You still can't believe how beautiful your four daughters look as you see her shift in your husband's arms. You wanted to name her Mia, but you held off and decided to let him name her. But...

You can't remember her name. The warmth in your body seems to bleed out as you try to remember her name, failing to recall anything. You want to ask him her name, but you can't even remember his either. You haven't known his name since you first saw him and took- The struggles begin again, pushing you out of your thoughts. You can feel his furless fingers clawing away at your arm in a frenzied panic. In fear, you release him and stand from your spot, turning to see the couch completely barren. The room is dead silent, with no sign of your baby or your husband anywhere. With the sound of your heart thumping in your ears, you make a rush for your daughters' bedroom as the primal fear of loneliness begins to overtake you. Throwing the door open with a clattering bang, you look inside the dark room. However, not only do you find no sign of your little children, but no sign that you ever had daughters to begin with. As dead silence fills the air, you began to realize the terrible truth, one that you wished you would never have to face again after first being with him: you were alone.

You awaken to the cold, musty air of your dark motel room. The panic still lingering in your body, you sit up and breathe as you recollect what happened in your dream. It was the same as most other nights: something you wished you could have, but know you never will. Throwing the scratchy cover off of yourself, your body is still like that of the one you dreamt of, though your hair and fur were matted and ragged in spots. Your children weren't with you; you had left them with their father. As for him... You still didn't know his name, though it was the most minor of guilts you felt as you remember everything you had done to him years ago. Taking him from his home, harming him, even forcefully taking him as your lover until he fled from his prison late one night. Worse, at the time, you had felt that this was right. That this was fine. But with each passing day you spend away from your daughters and him, you had begun to realize just how horribly wrong you were. Despair haunted you to the core, with some nights making you question why you should even continue to flee from the police and hide away. But, each time you ask yourself that, you are reminded of four little things that push you onwards: your daughters. To stop now would mean you would never see them again. With a calm breath in and out, you stand to a rise and put on your dirty, tight office clothes. You had to leave early to avoid being caught. You had to see your daughters. No matter what.