Once, when Briar and his brother were little, they laid in bed on a cold winter night while their mother told them a story. 

“They say the forest grows on the back of a sleeping giant.” She said in a voice made from nightingales and warm milk. “And just before his eternal slumber, he looked up at the moon and said—”

“Old friend, protect those who live in the trees and drink from the rivers. Comfort them when the world becomes dark and lonely, for I will no longer be able to.”

Briar and his brother, Rose, stared wide-eyed at their lovely mother sitting on the edge of the bed. She hid her ears under thick oaken curls that covered the right side of her face. 

“The moon agreed, smiling with several rows of teeth and promising to always watch over the forest,” She continued. “But, some promises are difficult to keep, especially when the creatures who lived there tasted like candied apples and cake.” 

“I love candied apples!” Rose exclaimed with a bounce, causing the messily-woven crown of flowers on his head to slip off the side.

“Me too! Me too! But, cream cakes are better,” Briar said, and Rose nodded with delight. 

“Some nights, the moon would whisper to those lying awake in bed and offer to sing them to sleep, but only if they climbed the tallest tree in the forest so they could hear him better.” Their mother said. “And so, they did, each one climbing to the top and sitting upon the highest branch where they listened to the moon’s lullaby—”

Now close your eyes and listen well,

To this old moon’s secret spell.

Just one taste and after then,

You’ll never have to wake again.

“And he ate them whole!” 

Both boys shrieked and disappeared under the covers as their mother jumped at them with pretend claws. 

Then, she laughed, a bell-like sound that lured them out from their blanket haven. 

“Sorry, little ones, I always loved that part when I was your age.” She said, scooping a sniffling Rose into her arms with a kiss. 

“Did the moon really eat them?” Briar asked, scooting closer.

“Oh, yes. And one night, after finishing his meal, the moon realized another creature had seen him.” She went on. “Fearful that the giant might wake and find out, the old moon grinned wide and fierce and asked—”

“Do you like the taste of butter? Rosemary tarts or perhaps a delicious gooseberry pie?” 

“The creature nodded, then the moon made a deal—”

“Keep my secret, and I will gladly share.” 

“When the creature agreed, the moon bestowed upon them three gifts: a grin as pointed as his, claws to strike any down, and a never-ending hunger for blood—” 

“Mother, I don’t like this story,” Rose whined. 

“Yes, it is quite grim, but all little bunnies must know this tale. It’s important to remember it was the moon who gave birth to them,” She laid them down together and kissed their foreheads. “But, we’ll save that for another night.”

The two of them agreed and snuggled into their pillows while their mother sang them lullabies about secret gardens, flying fish, and gingerbread houses. And after she believed they’d gone to sleep, the lovely woman stood and walked over to the fireplace. 

Briar opened his eyes and watched his mother feed the fire as shadows traced the scars of her uncovered face. 

Then, her ears came out of hiding and lifted into the air where one stood mauled and mutilated.