Imagination Is Everything

"The Wind In The Willows"

Okay, just to get this over and done with, I DO NOT own anything I write here. Any thing I write here is also purely fictional and taken from the depths of my mind.

Though I do wish I owned Bunnymund and the rest of the Guardians...

Anyways...

Onward with the story!!!

__________________________________________________________________________________

North gave a sigh, knowing very well that he couldn't keep this from the others. He wouldn't be keeping this from the others. This was a new Guardian they were talking about! But of course, only Man In the Moon and him himself know about it But he was determined to wait until the day of the choosing to reveal the mystery Pooka. This was the first time Manny has ever let North know about the next Guardian beforehand. And being given clear instructions by Manny himself, he was to NOT to reveal the other only living member of Bunny's fallen race.

North summoned his best, blankest expression and looked at the two spirits in front of him, arms crossed, showing off the 'Naughty' and 'Nice' tattoos on his forearms.

"What do you mean? Another Pooka?" he asked, keeping his tone of voice as unsuspicious as possible. "Yes!" Bunny exasperated, running a paw over the fur on his head. North just shook his head and said, "No. I don't have any of ze acknowledgements of another Bunny." "But-" "No buts, Bunny. I really don't know." "At least let me-" "No, Bunny. Please, I am busy at the moment. How about another time, hmm?" North cut Bunny off once again.

Looking crestfallen and slightly discouraged, he flattened his ears against the sides of his head, staring down at the beautifully painted egg he held in his paws. North, spotting the egg, wanted to called after him just as he was about to follow Jack out of the room. But Manny thought otherwise.

"Don't, Nicholas. Leave him be. He'll find out soon enough."

Knowing that he was right, he sighed and turned back to his inventions, hoping that the days would pass by faster, knowing full well that Bunny would be ecstatic to find another like him.

. . .

Back at The Burrow, a certain white bunny was busying herself with her writing. After finally having a believer in so long, she decided that she must at least do something. She had to do something to show the child how much she appreciated her belief. She had finally figured out how the child could see her, after constant hours of thinking till her brains turned to mush.

You see, a few months ago, she decided to post a story in a random mailbox, wanting to publish the story some other way. But what she didn't know was the fact that she had posted the story in the Bennett's mailbox. She remembered that it was dark out, and that she was getting tired. So she decided to post the story in the mailbox of the house her favourite Oak tree was growing in the backyard of. After seeing that no publishing had been done after waiting for a few weeks, she forgot all about it.

She didn't know what she could do. She's already done something, giving the child a special Easter egg she had once painted so long ago. It was one of her favourites and thought that it reflected the little human girl when she heard the two words "Story time". Knowing that giving out Easter eggs was The Easter Bunny's job, she didn't think it was very original. She had only decided on the gift because of the special day. But now, after thinking long and hard about it, she wanted to do something else.

Not knowing what else to do, she thought back to when she had her first believer. She had spent all of her time writing for him, taking him on adventures, journeys, time travels and just abut every game of make-believe you can possibly think of, just with the power of her words, whether it was when she read to him or when he would have his older brother read it to him.

Suddenly having a 'light-bulb' moment, she began to venture into her private library. Her private library consisted of all her hand-written...er, paw-written stories she had ever written, all kept in perfect condition by her helpers, The Bleems, as she liked to call them. She ran deep into the very heart of the library, to where she kept all her best stories, including the one she had read to her first believer.

Finally finding it, she pulled it off of the spotless shelves kept clean by her helpers, she quickly ran back to her office, eager to get started on the gift she was going to give to Sophie, her first believer in centuries.

Seeing how it was all written in olden English, she decided to rewrite every single word into a new book, replacing the no longer used words with modern ones.

She hopped over to a huge, mahogany wooden chest, she flipped open the top and rummaged the chest for the nicest looking book she had. She finally emerged with an empty book in her paws.

It was a brilliant royal red colour, it's pages although yellowed, but gave it a beautiful vintage look. It was rather plain, but she always decorated and designed the books after they had been written.

Sitting down in her worn, yet comfy chair, she got to work on the book. Flipping open the book to the very first page and grabbing one of her many enchanted writing pens, she wrote in her neat, cursive handwriting.

"The Wind In The Willows"

Fueled by determination, she wrote and wrote and wrote, only pausing for toilet breaks and telling her Bleems to bring her more tea and granola bars she had grown to love over the years.

But in the midst of her passionate writing, deep down, she was afraid the child wouldn't like the book. It was, after all, an old classic that was not very famous among kids nowadays. But it was one of her best creations.

She had to try.