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Pre-Exploration North America
“Come on, come on,” Bunnymund grumbled at the flask. He’d been trying to collect tree sap for some of his experiments, but things weren’t going quite his way. He’d anticipated thickness, but nothing quite as resistant as this. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He glared over the rims of his glasses at the maple. To be fair, it was incredibly cold in this region of the world. He probably should’ve waited for warmer weather, but he was only so patient. Finding new flavors for his chocolates was getting harder. He was just about to give up when it started raining. That was the last straw. “Dammit. Really?!” he cried to the skies. A raindrop fell on his nose in response to his outburst. He found himself flattening his ears and glowering into the woods. “Unbelievable,” he whispered. My luck is amazing, he thought to himself.
A flicker of movement caught his attention. He turned his head, at first seeing nothing. Then his gaze fell on a face, staring at him through the wood. His first thought was that a human could see him. The longer he stared, though, the more unearthly the woman seemed to him.
Their eyes locked, and he was struck by how familiar she seemed. How scared she seemed. They stayed perfectly still, staring at each other from afar. Bunnymund analyzed her dress; a long, green gown that reminded him of rainforest leaves after rainfall. He memorized her features; waist-length black hair with . . . were those vines growing from her head? Dear moon, there were even butterflies drinking from the . . . were those orchids? Her hair could sustain life? Before he questioned what he’d perceived, he focused back in on her eyes. Silver-gold, but suddenly he realized why they seemed so inhuman to him: the irises were shaped much the same way as a cat’s.
A nature spirit. Bunnymund was looking at a nature spirit. Not just any nature spirit. A powerful one. And now she was running away. “Wait!” he shouted, dropping the flask and chasing after her on all fours. He caught up with her just in time to see her scale a tree without so much as a pause. “Wait, I’m not—,” he stopped as she launched off a high branch into the air, flying out of his line of view.
He didn’t really know what intrigued him about her. He tended to keep his distance from humans or anyone who was once human. But that first chance meeting with Mother Nature made him wonder.
Easter Island
“Ah, for cryin’ out loud,” Bunnymund grumbled. Things were so much easier when he didn’t have to monitor the movements of a time-travelling Atlantean. There were certain magics he wished had simply stayed buried with the Golden Age. This certainly was one of them.
He ran a paw over his face and ears, gripping his glasses between two digits. Bloody humans, he thought. They simply couldn’t leave well enough alone. It wouldn’t be long before they attempted to involve him. He was well aware the Nightmare King was awake. He knew what the man had done, and despite what they thought, Pitch was once human. And Bunnymund didn’t want to associate with humans. Pitch and humans had taken enough out of him.
He sat atop one of the Easter Island heads, staring out over the land and ocean. Gray skies calmed him. The movements of the Earth calmed him. He was content to stay underground in his elaborate tunnel system, but every now and then he needed the open air. He needed to breathe and collect samples of plants and experiment with flavors. Anything to improve his chocolates. That was the one thing he missed about having company: no one could test his experiments. He certainly couldn’t. There was a possibility his chocolates could make him collapse his own tunnels.
At some point in his musing, he began to feel as though someone was watching him. Glancing at the ground below, he saw no one. He was about to turn around when he caught a glimpse of black and green out of the corner of his eye.
She was right behind him. Mother Nature was standing right behind him. He turned his head just enough to see her profile. He couldn’t see her face clearly, but he could see enough of her to know that she was, in fact, there.
“Help them,” she said. Her voice was quiet, almost timid. At the same time, it was filled with cold determination.
He saw her move, but before he could turn and inquire further she was gone. Looking up, he saw no sign of Mother Nature.
He didn’t know who she had meant for him to help. However, he was certain he would soon find out.
Santoff Claussen after the Battle at the Center of the Earth
The war taxed Bunnymund. Centuries alone, centuries without a friend, centuries isolating himself from humans, the most destructive force he’d ever encountered. Centuries of being the only Pooka warrior left living. Now, he was fighting alongside humans. What more, he was fighting alongside humans against the man who’d wiped out his entire race.
But he was beginning to remember exactly how it felt to have a family, to have people for whom he cared. And when North had gotten injured during Bunnymund’s first battle against Pitch, he was reminded for a split second of what it was like to lose again. Bunnymund was able to carry him out and staunch the flow of blood enough to save him. Once he was safe and recovering, Bunnymund took a moment to tread through the protective barriers of Santoff Claussen. The woods were beautiful. The people were intriguing and intelligent. But he saw in them the fear that Pitch had brought them.
Bunnymund loathed how something like Pitch Black could steal the light out of such a wondrous town as this. He certainly hoped the Nightmare King was permanently defeated. Looking back on his past, however, he sincerely doubted a force like that could be destroyed by something as simple as a locket with the portrait of a girl inside.
Wandering through the forest, he thought again of North’s condition. He knew his friend would heal. He’d ensured the others were safe. But something still troubled him. Though the children of Santoff Claussen were celebrating, he dreaded what was to come. Somehow, he knew it wasn’t over.
A soft cry caught his attention. His ears perked up, listening intently for the source. He moved silently, hoping to go unnoticed. He resorted to moving around the thick forestry on all fours, finding it both easier and quieter to move like so. When he came up behind the crying woman, he thought it was the Spirit of the Forest. Before he remembered that her gown wasn’t a vibrant green, he said, “Are you alright?”
When the woman spun about to face him, he was taken aback. It was her. Mother Nature was right in front of him.
And suddenly, he recognized her facial features. He recognized her pained expression, her fear. He’d seen it.
He’d seen it on the face of his enemy.
“I know you,” he whispered, stepping closer. As he moved forward, she stepped back. When he saw this, he stilled. “You’re her. The girl in the locket.”
“He’s not gone,” was all she said. Before he could ask, she disappeared into the forest.
This time, he didn’t follow.
Indian Jungle after the Disappearance of Katherine and Pitch
“Where is she?!” he shouted as he chased after Mother Nature.
“Safe!” she shouted back as she prepared to leap up onto a branch.
Before she could escape him again, he tackled her. Pinning her underneath him, he shouted, “Where can we find Kath—?!”
He was cut off when something yanked him upward into the jungle canopy. Tangled in vines, he stared down at her with a surprised look on his face.
She got up and simply dusted herself off. Glaring up at him, she said, “Don’t treat my passivity as weakness.”
“You sure were very passive with your recent interference!” he fired back.
“Do what you must to keep the darkness at bay, but the Man in the Moon doesn’t want blood spilt.”
“How do you know what he wants?” Bunnymund asked after a shocked pause.
“You are not the only ones he speaks to. You Guardians are only so special, and only so old.” With that, she left him dangling and at the mercy of the jungle.
Post-Great War
Bunnymund had long since come to terms with the unpredictable force that was Mother Nature. At first, she’d seemed a frightened ally. Then she’d been a reluctant enemy. Their last meeting had presented her as an offended non-partisan.
Now that the Great War was over and Pitch was finally subdued, Bunnymund had a more pressing duty to the Man in the Moon: bring hope to the children of the planet. Katherine, Ombric, and Nightlight had gone off the grid, leaving Bunnymund, North, Toothiana, and Sandman on the forefront of the world’s defenses. Though he had his work cut out for him, the memories of the war were still fresh in his mind. Mother Nature had become a conundrum during his time creating a new haven for egg production. At least he no longer had to monitor would-be time travelers. That duty had been relegated to Ombric prior to his and the others’ disappearances. Bunnymund hadn’t reemerged from his new Warren until it was almost complete. When he did, though, she was there. It was as if she’d known exactly where he’d emerge.
“Why?” Bunnymund asked her.
“Because you’re not human.”
“You keep visiting me because I’m not human? You’ve spoken to none of the others for that reason?”
“You see us for what we are. Destroyers. Menaces.” She paused, looking down almost sadly. “Monsters.”
“And yet you defend them,” he pointed out. “Even when you were preventing the end of the Nightmare Kind, a permanent end to his terror, you were defending humans. Your monsters. For what reason?”
“One day they will realize their destructive nature and fear themselves. You and I both know Pitch—.”
“Your father—.”
“—will rise again. It won’t be soon. It may not be for another thousand years. But he will.”
“I don’t see how any of this makes sense.”
“I alone will survive humanity. All other spirits will perish soon after their disappearance. That is how powerful human belief is. When the humans go—.”
“—we all go.”
She nodded. “All but me. I defend the humans for the immortals. There are very few capable of ripping me out of this world. You may have had a hand in designing this universe, but I own this planet. I gave it life. While the Man in the Moon was in his crib and Pitch was waging war and harpooning stars, I was building the last refuge of the Golden Age with you. And I am willing to go head to head with my own blood to keep this world in the light.”
“Yet you’re neutral.” He let his sarcasm leak through.
“He will always be my blood. And the Guardians only needed so much help. Save for you. You, by far, were going to be the hardest force to rally.” She snorted. “You should’ve been the easiest. Look at what you’ve lost.”
“Don’t bring up what I’ve lost,” Bunnymund growled. “You are just as alone in this universe as I am, just as starved for a tie, a bond of some form. That is the real reason you didn’t want the Guardians to lose the Great War.”
Her gaze chilled him as she lifted her chin and stood straighter. “While that may be true, I know my place in the world. It’s time the Guardians learned theirs.”
Turning away she prepared to leap into the sky, as she had done each time before. Before she escaped, Bunnymund asked, “Are you ever going to stay long enough to actually tell me what it’s like being the devil’s daughter?”
His tone wasn’t harsh. It was genuine. But still she didn’t answer. He hadn’t expected her to.
Renaissance
The Warren was struggling this year. Population growth in the human realm made production and delivery much more strenuous. Bunnymund’s machinery was beginning to fail and falter. Eventually, Bunnymund had resorted to painting eggs himself. It helped, but nowhere near as much as he needed.
His deadline was fast approaching and he wasn’t even close. He had to sleep, though. His eyes were so bleary that he had been doing more harm than good in painting his products. He was about to go lie down for a change when he heard something emanating from his garden area. The Warren gardens were his place of relaxation. Only he could access that area.
So why and how was he hearing a female voice singing a lullaby there?
Stepping out of the production region of the Warren and strolling into the brightly lit, color-filled area he’d created, he began searching for the source of the singing. He found her lying on her side, singing to the tulips in a language Bunnymund had not heard in eons. Her voice was enchanting. It was almost haunting. Instead of interrupting Bunnymund instead took a seat and listened, watching the tulips reaching up in the direction of her voice. Butterflies danced and floated around her as she sand. The sight was unbelievable, so unlike the violence of storms Bunnymund had come to associate Mother Nature with.
When she finished singing, she didn’t speak. She held a finger up, signaling that she knew he was there and that he should be quiet. She began whispering to the tulips, “Come on. Show us what you can do, now.” A single tulip dipped down, then. From its petals fell an egg, which rolled into Mother Nature’s hand. She held it up, showing it to the stunned Bunnymund. She’d altered the function of his garden simply by conversing with his flowers. “Nature can’t break the way your machines can. These will make work go by a lot faster.”
Taking the egg from her, they stared at one another. She’d rolled over and leaned her head into her hand to look at him. He got an incredible view of the way her cat-like irises reacted to the light in his Warren. He saw how she resembled Pitch, who was a terrifying figure to behold. Yet she made his features seem . . . .
“Beautiful,” he muttered.
She fought the smile that wanted to crawl across her lips. Sitting up, she said, “Seraphina. Call me Sera. It’s easier on the tongue.”
She held out a hand. Staring at it, he realized this would be their first official introduction. All other times they’d met, she’d said her piece and left. Taking her hand, he smiled at the potential of their first true meeting. “E. Aster Bunnymund.”
“I’m going to call you Bunny.”
He wanted to glare, but he realized the futility of arguing with Mother Nature. Sera. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Sera.”
She did smile then. “Pleased to make you acquaintance . . . Bunny.”