They went down the stairs, back to the Hall, and directed their path towards one of Meryl’s many kitchens.

That one, compared to the ones Mr. Rabbit would eventually get to know, was the most modest of all. Despite the sarcasm and snarky attitude, Meryl wasn’t any snob.

Mr. Rabbit, however, still found himself dumbfounded, an information he would soon adress in the next sentence of his.

“Wow! I’m dumbfolded, my fellow! May I ask you a question? Why did you build such a big house for, I assume, you alone?”

“well, i’m a mechanic, i like to build things. it was only expected of me to build a big house, right? but in all honesty i feel i might’ve gone a liiiitle bit too far, i must admit.”

Meryl went silent for a minute before whispering, almost too low:

“i had hope i would receive many guests someday…”

They opened the cupboarbs and started looking for anything EDIBLE to give their guest.

“damn, i cant even remember the last time i refilled my completely useless food stock!”

Fortunately, in the darkest back of the last cabinet, there WAS something. Meryl chuckled at the realization of what was it.

“hoho, the irony”.

“What is it?”

It was hot chocolate.

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