Yule

 Lance woke on the first day of Yule feeling very grateful to have a cuddle buddy this winter season. He snuggled into Vince who was still wrapped around him like a big spoon. Listening to the strong, slow rhythm of his breath and feeling very full of love for the beautiful ginger man with the majestic mane who’d made a habit out of sharing his bed. 

Vince had recently been given his own private tiny home on the land not too far away from Lance’s. But he still made a habit of spending most nights at Lance’s. Maybe it was because he was an artist and his own home had become more the organized chaos of a work studio than a domestic and inviting home. Maybe it was because Lance and Vince had started falling in love. Vince appreciated the way Lance never cleaned Vince’s home and never allowed Vince to leave any mess in his. He was allowed one drawer in Lance’s dresser and whenever he left more than what would fit in there, Lance always seemed to know exactly what to leave there and what to leave neatly stacked just inside the door of Vince’s tiny-home. They both had the access codes to each other’s home - the 5 digit code that would open the automatic doors. They had exchanged codes about three weeks ago right after they’d decided to become boyfriends. It was a word that could mean anything from partner to playmate; they were both of those things for each other.

Today was the morning of the three-day, two-night celebration to mark Yule. It was the celebration of gift giving; showing loved ones their needs were not just their own by surprising them with what they wanted even if they didn’t know how to ask for it. Residents were expected to do less work during festivals, but they were still expected to do at least what was needed. Lance was up with the sun as per usual; he knew the rabbits he was responsible for would also be up with the sun and awaiting their breakfast. 

Vince worked in the printing section of the custom framing department of the community, and could probably get away without doing any work at all during Yule. But Lance had been given the honor of being Steward of NorthEast Warren. The rabbits there could skip their medical examinations for the next three days, but they still needed to be fed. 

He began to slowly get up. Vince grumbled and pulled him in closer. Lance allowed himself just a few more seconds to enjoy the weight of Vince’s arms around him then got up with force and intention. Vince opened his eyes and blinked at him in a sleepy way. “Is it morning?..”

“It’s early. Go back to sleep my man.” He leaned down and gave Vince a kiss on the cheek; immensely enjoying the way Vince closed his eyes and sighed with pleasure; he was back to sleep before Lance silently opened the door to leave. 

Lance was bundled tight against the winter chill. He had jeggings on under his work pants, three layers under his rabbit skin coat, and a thick wool scarf, mittens, and beanie. His warm work boots pounded noisily through the icy snow of the New Mexico mountains. The pinyons, junipers, and ponderosas of the land looked absolutely breath-taking, half covered in a blanket of snow.

He made his way to Warren’s Hearth - the heart and hearth of Jackalope Ranch. It was a warren for people at the very center of a pentagram that had 5 warrens for rabbits - one on each point. TrueNorth was where the young rabbits were brought as soon as they were ready for solid food. Most of the rabbits sold for pets were sold from there. The rabbits were constantly breeding and there was always more than enough meat for the food projects of the land. The Ranch had existed for over 20 years now and people often joked the rabbits were getting so smart they might very well start talking soon. 

Rabbits are remarkably like people: fast when they need to be and otherwise extremely lazy. It was one of the duties of the Steward of each warren to monitor the solidarity of the rabbit community; occasionally bringing down a bully rabbit with a sleeping dart and moving it to a different warren before it woke up. A rabbit who suffered this kind of punishment rarely made the effort to return to its original warren and even more rarely made the effort to return to continue to bully. A return trip with intentions of harassment or vengeance was a sure way for a rabbit to end up on the chopping block.

There was definitely more than enough space during the summer. Rabbits were free to roam and often spent days at a time away from their warren of choice. But they broke into fights much more often during the winter. That’s when most rabbits, by choice, stayed confined to their warren for comfort and warmth. Each warren was a huge, single story, one room warehouse complete with houses to climb, holes to dig, and all sorts of nooks to hide in. Along with the large feeding trough just outside that was filled twice a day.

    

At Warren’s Hearth, Lance strapped to his back the large basket that was a medley of fresh vegetables and made his way to NorthEast Warren to mix the vegetables with the feeding pellets already locked away in a shed there for his rabbits’ morning meal.

On the trek there he thought about how happy he was to be with Vincent McCarther; how easy it was to just be sexually open to others when together and/or apart. Their circle was open and unbroken. Like most couples or polycules on the land, they were open: they played together and separately but mostly together.  

Lance was respectful of Vince’s need to occasionally be alone, but Lance hated being alone. He’d been neglected and isolated so much as a child that being alone sometimes brought out the fear that he would always be unlovable. 

He knew he wanted to be with Vince always; he also knew that was a ridiculous concept that perhaps prevented him from enjoying the here and now. But all the confused brooding got a joyful reprise when he saw the way his rabbits greeted him with excitement for their breakfast. Perhaps his love for Vince had sharp edges, but his love for the rabbit community he had the honor of caring for was endless. Lance loved the rabbits he cared for and they loved him.

It's not a bad life they had, to live in a paradise built just for them with the guarantee of a quick and easy death. Jackalope Ranch was a paradise for a sober man, but they still had the very real responsibility of living as long as they could. Most humans did not get the luxury of a painless death.

When Lance was homeless, he was terrified of illness. The only thing worse than the classist capitalists who saw him as sub-human were the toxic positive ones who took every assault on their delusions of perfection and happiness way too personally. Lance was often angry and sometimes sad, but he rarely made it other people’s problem and always loved the people who understood the effort it took to not be a problem.

What he had needed was community and he had become a pillar of this community he had the good fortune to find. Then he thought of Keith and how Keith’s dog was pretty much a hospice patient at this point.

Lance finished up with his rabbit wards, returned the basket to Warren's Hearth to be filled with more fresh vegetables the next morning, and made his way to the community computer room. Lance had not grown up with internet access and didn’t really care for it. He knew people were watching, but also knew most people were garbage who used honesty as an excuse for cruelty. Trying to build a following was not something he cared about; he cared about being valued by the people who he followed. And he cared for Keith who had led him to the community he now enjoyed. So he logged on to the world wide web, and managed to access his account (more money than he had ever seen in his life just for having sex in public when he felt like it), and managed to find access to a Denver pet store that currently had puppies for sale.

It was just past their open time so he gave them a video call since he was the only one in the community computer at the time (only accessible to residents and most residents who were online had private access). “Hello,” he said to the friendly-looking middle aged woman who answered the video call.

“Hello honey! How can I help you today?!”

“I saw that you had puppies for sale and wanted to buy a puppy voucher for a friend.”

“Oh honey, we do not recommend pets as a gift! They’re a big responsibility and not something for someone unready for it! How old is your friend and have they had a dog before?”

“He’s about your age, and currently has an ancient chihuahua. I want to help him with the process of getting a new dog because I know he loves dogs and could easily care for two while Buster is in hospice care.”

Her friendly but wary face visibly softened at this explanation, “Oh honey, that is the sweetest thing. Yes, I can sell you a voucher. He’d still have to pass the screening process but it would all be free for him if you buy the voucher for him. He’s not a felon is he?”

“I don’t believe so. But I can guarantee you that if he does have charges, none of them are for animal cruelty. Probably the only bad thing about him is that he loves animals more than people!”

She laughed and digitally sent him the documents that he bought and paid for. “Now, honey,” she said after the transaction, “would you like to let him pick or pick one out for him?”

“Could he change it if he wants a different one?”

“Yes, your pick would just reserve the one you choose for one week. Would he be able to stop by to pick up his companion in less than a week?”

“Yes, He should be back in Denver and ready to pick up in about 3 days.”

She picked up the camera and began a walk through the kennels. They were all adorable, but there was a tiny long haired chihuahua puppy that was a lovely little lover. He could tell by how happy he was to see the attendant who obviously loved the little runt puppy too. “This one’s Oliver! And I wouldn’t be showing him if I didn’t think he might have a good home with your friend!”

“He’s perfect!” Lance replied. “That’s the one.”

He printed out the voucher that had a picture of Oliver on it. His scruffy tan and white face looked absolutely adorable in the pic where he really looked like he was smiling for the camera.

Before leaving the computer room, he checked his email. There were a couple emails from his mother that he deleted. She was demanding money she’d never get from him. He owed that bitch less than nothing. 

And there was an email from his one and only female lover, Hana. She was bi too and sometimes he wondered what their life would be if they made it work on the outside: if they’d be closed or open, if they’d be swingers or monogamous. She told him that she was happy for him that he had his first official boyfriend and was still excited to see him whenever she visited, though her next visit would probably only be the Ostara gathering. Lance sent a lengthy reply and was happy that she was as good of a penpal as she was at everything else: absolutely amazing. He left wondering if he, Vince, and Hana could all be together without anybody getting jealous; and how good together they would be if they all loved themselves and each other without jealousy or delusions of ownership. 

Voucher in hand (Lance wasn’t one for pretense or fancy presentation) he walked to the campsite he knew Keith would be setting up camp. He saw Keith flirting with a woman in a flower dress and decided to be snoopy and watch from behind a tree. The woman seemed nothing but silly giggles and Lance was sure Keith could do better. Though he didn’t get to hear much of what they were saying before they were interrupted by another woman who was more tough and scary looking than anyone Lance had ever seen. She had short hair, no makeup, and a jacket with the art of some death metal band that definitely had no flowers on it.    

“I smell a tiny dick prick” She said looking at Keith. The silly woman giggled at this and Keith blushed as Lance started to get angry. 

“I have toys of all sizes…” Keith started before he was cut off again. 

“Yea?! So do I and none of them are attached to a bitch who would rather be a male gaze than defy the male gaze.”

Lance had had enough and stepped into the conversation. “That’s enough. This is a safe space and I won’t have this here.”

“Uh Oh?!” She said with a sneer, “looks like the bitch has a pup!” 

“I use bitch as a nonbinary term but I don’t believe you do and if you intentionally misgender my friend one more time you and everyone you came with will be banned for a year. Fucking try me.”

Her sneer faltered as he held her gaze. He wanted her to know he was the least civilized person in the civilization and he wasn’t far from going full savage to protect his friend. 

“Come on Suzanne,” the tough lesbian said to the ridiculous lesbian, giving both the men a very cold shoulder. “Christ, I can’t leave you alone for two seconds without you being a whore.”

The verbal abuse and ownership she seemed to exert on this Suzanne who seemed to be a willing victim was not his problem. They left and Keith was on the edge of tears.

““Transphobic lesbians are the fucking worst” said Keith.  

Lance went over and gently patted Keith’s back a couple times. “You’re one of the best men I know,” he said. “And if you had stayed a woman you would have been a way better woman than either one of those bitches.” Keith laughed a bit and Lance was happy to see him smile. “AAAND…. Look what I got for you!” He pulled out the puppy voucher. Then Keith did start to cry but they were happy tears. 

“How did you know Buster had passed away?” He asked.

“I didn’t. But I told the guardian of the pet shop you could easily care for two dogs because I’m sure you could.”