Work Text:
Thump, thump, thump .
Strong foot stamps, of a stressed mother rabbit. She hopped around the kitchen, holding a bowl of cake batter. Mix mix mix she went, her nose twitching in anticipation and anxiety.
Her daughter has been closed off lately, and it has worried the caregiver greatly. It's near the young one’s birthday, and as such she is baking a nice cake.
Shut doors, banging on the walls, lashing and unpredictable. The mother didn't know that puberty could make her baby this volatile. The other parents had compared of their own children as becoming like demons during that period, so she is safe to assume her child is going through the same.
Although the others failed to mention about the void. It must have slipped their mind, as she brought the sickly child in a bundle when she first went to the group. Left in a forest, the rabbit couldn't help but feel sympathy for the babe.
In the oven went the cake, a chocolate one! It was her daughter's favorite, unless that has also changed in puberty.
She misses her girl’s past self occasionally, but she will raise a baby, a teenager, and an adult. She cannot pick and choose just because of a small inconvenience. She doesn't quite recall being treated the same herself, but she understands.
Being scared makes children fight, sometimes. And she will be there, again and again.
She set the egg timer, before turning to hop out of the kitchen into the hallway. Down past two stairs, pausing before the cracked and fragile blackened door of her daughter. The mother couldn't quite say it was a tantrum, but she couldn't understand quite how the spikes formed, or much else. All she is sure of is her daughter is stressed and she will help.
She carefully knocked on the door thrice, before stepping to the side. Although it wasn't too often, the spike that speared through the door and embedded itself into the wall was still quite dangerous. Any past attempts to assist her daughter in trying to control her new…additions… was met with screaming and scars. So she will wait until her daughter feels safe enough to ask.
The caregiver still frowned at the damaged wall.
She will have to knit a nice sweater.
The tall form of her child poked out, slumped shoulders and wet eyes, some of the very few indications of guilt when she is…demonic, to say the least.
Her mother held out her paw, inviting her to come to the kitchen. She had found her daughter staring into the oven with the lights on many times, and she reasoned that she might like to do something that was from the past.
The teenager regarded with a guilty gaze, but hesitantly grasped the smaller woman's paw. She let herself be led past the doors of the hallway and into the kitchen, sitting in front of the oven with the chair the rabbit had pulled out.
As the girl watched the flames lick at the dark metal of the pan, the mother was whipping up a small batch of frosting.
As she finished with the last of the sugar, she had to contend with a new dilemma; her daughter's sweet tooth.
She had to weave and dodge through the assault, her child’s feelers (or sum idk) darting which way and that in order to get the sweet treat.
Finally, when she felt a little lightheaded, the egg timer dinged. The matriarch lightly bonked a few of the boldest feelers, before sliding on the oven mitts. She TOOK THE FUCKIN CAKE AND CUT IT UP AN SLATHERED IT IN FROSTING LETS FUCKING GOOO NO FUCK YOU WRITER YOU’RE A PIECE OF SHIT what the fuck did i do YOU HAD PUFF THE MAGIC DRAGON HEY YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BRING UP OTHER ONESHOTS NAH FUCK THIS IM GOING HOME WHAT THE HECK MAN