Fnaf Bunny Novels & Stories

I lied, fuck, I could win an Oscar with this performance, and we had to go down to look for him. "Yes," Anne followed me, "But we didn't find him," she pretended sadness. "He's gone" I patted her back, sniffling my nose. "It's sad, we'll never see the poor little bunny again." I whispered. I looked out of the corner of my eye as Connor watched us in the rearview mirror. "And what's the rabbit's name?" he asked. Easy. "Misifú." "Firulais" Anne and I said at the same time. Big mistake. Connor frowned.

---------------- ----------- The next night . . . ---------------- ----------- Bunny, as it turned out, could talk for at least an hour without stopping. She was the verbal equivalent of the world's longest run-on sentence, but Shamira did not seem to mind anymore. The girl was just too damn happy to stay annoyed with. And she was certainly easy on the eyes, sitting in the passenger side of the van in tight-white denim shorts that barely covered her ass, a tied-off pink-and-white checkered shirt, and her wheat-blond hair pulled back in a pony-tail. She enjoyed flirting with passing truckers, and watching her lean out the window to talk to or yell at other motorists made Shamira grin.