His red eyes rotted out of his sunked head and they weren't red anymore, they were a greenish-red and decayed at the edges. His black fur fell in clumps as he dragged himself along the ground, but each tuft was infected with disease. His hind legs, once so proud and strong, were now a pair of dwindling bloodied stumps that refused to work. At his throat there was a long laceration, still oozing pus and blood that poisoned the grass it fell upon.
This was the Black Rabbit. Once so proud in his inky fur, now he was wasted and cursed.
Every hour he convulsed, and, with froth bubbling out between his teeth, he shrieked in a voice changed beyond recognition:
"Gone! Ilkayah brahilah! All dead! Bloodied by the Whi-"
Then he screamed.
Chillingly, he screamed until he could scream no more, then he went silent.
He is doomed to this fate. He is doomed to disintegrate, never die, cry out each night in pain and sorrow. Don't even try to put him out of his misery, becau