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Her name is Cottonpuff Sweets. Most people call her 'Cotty' for short; I call her Puffie. Sometimes, I call her 'Master'. Sometimes she enjoys this...and sometimes she doesn't. She is not the proud sort; in fact no matter how much I tell her, she will never accept that she is beautiful...and she IS beautiful. In fact, I have never met anyone to rival her beauty or her brains. She is a Bunari; which is a sort of rabbit. There are many different types of Bunari; Puffie is the type with a basically anthro body, though she has teats as well as small breasts, respectively in the uaual places ; she can walk erect, or on all fours; her forepaws are like enough to hands that she can hold things, and write. She has the purest white fur, with hues of pink and blonde atop her head; likewise there is a curlicue which rests here and extends as bangs to her forehead. It is all she has in the way of hair determinate from the rest of her fur. She has two different-colored eyes: the left Wil change color with her whim, but the right is always a breathtaking sapphire blue. She tends to wear dresses designed for a court jester; she has an authentic jester's hat, which she loathes to take off, even to wash...but she does take it off to do so. She speaks in the most enchanting voice I have ever known, her accent nearly indescribable and yet I can liken the sound to sweet, dripping honey: cool and yet rich, childish,yet enticing. Her every word seems to drip sensuality, even when sex is the last thing on her mind. When I first began to court her, I was but a young lynx, with no memory as to my origin. The queen of the land knew, however, and it seemed I was to marry the princess. Fortunately for me, Fate intervened: Cottonpuff was assigned to me as mentor, to teach me etiquette, and gentlemanly behavior. Thus we met, and I fell in love ; Puffie believed my courtship to be in jest, but her body longed for my own. And, I tell myself, all-but praying this was true, her heart yearned for me as well. We lost ourselves in each other when she came in season, but she was ashamed, so great was her loyalty to the queen and princess. My heart burned for the Bunari; and eventually I proved to her my honesty, by crafting a sword so powerful, it was made out of the Heavens themselves, and should a god walk the land, the sword should have slain him-- on one condition: That he was a threat to Puffie's safety. The sword was a blade like any other, except to protect Cottonpuff. It was forged by my undying love, and born of a thirst for vengeance: for you see, My Cottonpuff was killed by a band of conquerors and it was this which prompted me to forge the blade. The most powerful weapon for any purpose in all existence: Love. I called it Kaseth, this physical and yet ethereal incarnation of burning love. By it's power, I avenged myself on my love's killers. I collected her precious hat from her corpse, and --again by Kaseth's power-- I dove into the past, but it was not the past I knew. In this reality, Puffie already had her lover, and while he did appear to be yet another incarnation of myself, I could not defeat my jealousy or my grief. Addled as my mind then was, my dearest wish was still to see her happy. Cottonpuff, I mean; So it was that I left her a wedding gift: Kaseth. I sent it anonymously, and then I left the kingdom forever. I admit I was intent to kill myself, only to discover that I could not die. Perhaps it was owed to my having wielded Kaseth, for I soon learned I could still travel time as well; I did not know then and I suppose I never shall. I dove into The past once again. For a time, I wandered aimlessly. Then, as if compelled to do so by a force other than my own will, I traveled to the time and place of Cottonpuff's younger days. I found her living in a quiet little village, and I gave her MY Puffie's Jester hat. I told her I was merely a benefactor, and that the hat was enchanted (For Puffie had told me this once, long ago) in such a way that whoever wore it would attract their true love the moment they laid eyes on one another. She was, of course, deeply curious and inquisitive; nevertheless, I managed to give her the slip. For two thousand years, I wandered space and time, with my heart as heavy as my armor. I lent my prowess as a warrior to billions of armies, not for money, but for the chance to die. Of course I didn't, and I believe I never shall; still I try, and when I tire of war, I wander to seek new things, to learn. I have forgotten my name. Those who speak of me call me 'Ghost' or else, simply, 'The Wanderer'. This does not bother me. I have forgotten all things except her: Cottonpuff, my Puffie. My Angel. When I do hear the whispers, I like to think she would be amused, and for her sake I have never fought for any army with less than honorable intentions. Her moral compass is my own, and through all the dreary days of Eternity, this Vagrant; this Vagabond; this Nobody, Ghost, and Wanderer has only one solace, one comfort: in all the realities I visited, hoping to find a Cottonpuff of my own, never did I encounter a Puffie who was without love, without joy, without peace.