From Farragise's the ancient Rabbit's Perspective:
Slightly, I raised my chin, baring the furry underside where my greying mane came to a point.

The best? I pondered, The best? I thought of Esmerelda, and her grandfather beyond that. The two two-leggeds that I knew (elves in race). They were both kind, gentle, and had done what I suggested most of the time through their lives, which was extremely useful. Though I did not know what had become of the old man after his work with myself and the Behemoth who still lived inside of me, I remembered his goodness in freeing me from that repetitive irritating voice (i.e. the Behemoth) from whom I had been plagued for many years.

But she is not an elf, I said, Nor dwarf as far as I can tell. Human ... really Veridian? You think a human is better than the company of another of your Earth-kin.

There was a pause. Veridian frowned at me in the best way his vuples face could allow him to. Human? he said, confused, No ... she is a faun. One of Drys' other creations. I am sure I mentioned that in my first ever letter.

The next pause was longer. In fact it was pregnant with the sun. My ears flattened along my back and in me awakened a whole new meaning to the word 'awkward.'

Oh ... I said, Ah.

Indeed, I did not remember it being there, or ever reading it. But by the fact that Veridian had stated it probably meant that my fears were entirely true - that I had not read his letters thoroughly enough. In my sense of attention span versus the interesting points of the thing that is to be read, Veridian's letters did not rate highly. Indeed, letters in general did not rate very highly in my desire to read them properly. Letters, in comparison to books or ancient artefacts, were not life-changing - unless of course they contained a particularly imperative fact which had to the power to change one's opinion of an Earth-brother's companion.

Behemoth's balls, I cursed, Well, excellent choice then, brother. Drys gave us fauns to be kin of the Earth too, and thus they are better than any other. Congratulations on the species.

Then I paused, But not on her whining nature.

Indeed, Veridian said, surprisingly fast and accepting. Strangely, his tone did not even draw attention to the fact I had entirely misjudged his choice of familiar, when considering her species (evidently incorrectly). A glint in his eye spoke of amusement, but nothing more. It seemed he held no grudge and understood that my continual interest in reading his letters every time they came was not a thing to be relied upon.

She complains, but as do you, he smiled again, and got to his feet to patter over and sit right by my side. Good to see you again, Earth-sister, he said.

And I, feeling a little less awkward now, thanks to his forgiveness, replied in kind.