Work Text:
In the ambiguous darkness of a moonlit night, three travellers warm their bones by a well-fed fire and share a bottle of whiskey. They pass the time with story and song, filling the quiet of the wilds with the rustic harmony of their voices: bass, alto, and tenor. And tenor. And tenor. And–
One traveller grabs a blazing branch and holds it aloft, illuminating their surroundings. Everywhere the light catches, dozens of pairs of eyes gleam—red as rubies.
The flames reveal the closest beasts in full. Salt-and-pepper agouti fur, powerful back feet, and long, long ears that swivel unerringly towards the slightest sound. They could almost be mistaken for overly large hares—save for the bone-white antlers that adorn their skulls, male and female alike.
When the red shine fades, those beady black eyes—bright with intelligence—continue to stare fearlessly.
"Jackalope," the travellers mutter, and their own voices echo back in an uncanny chorus:
“Jackalope.”
“Jackalope.”
“Jackalope.”
They do not move with the nervousness of true lagomorphs; their steps are calm and confident. Although they pause to nibble innocently at the tufts of prairie grass, it's quite clear that the band are slowly closing in around the campfire. One jackalope alone is hardly cause for concern, but ten? Twenty? That's a lot of antlers. And none of the travellers have stovepipe leggings.
Coming to a wordless, unanimous decision, all three of them reach for the rifles leaning against their travel packs. The effect is instantaneous—a pandemonium of stomping feet and darting bodies as the jackalopes scatter, almost too quickly for the eyes to follow. The creatures throw their voices left, right, and centre with eerily human cries of, “There he goes!” and “Over there, get him!” before disappearing from sight. Silence descends upon the scene once more and the travellers breathe a sigh of relief. Rifles in hand, they settle back into their places around the fire to resume their vigil.
It isn’t until later—when the sun is just beginning to rise—that they realise the sneaky critters have pilfered their whiskey.