Thighs, Trees, and Training: The Bunny Break Arc

As the days passed, Rikuya's training continued to escalate in intensity. The two weeks before the tournament in Ardenwave was becoming a blur of grueling physical trials, each one more demanding than the last. His body, already worn from the boulders on his back, was about to face a new challenge that would push him beyond his limits.

Rikuya stood at the base of the steep mountain, the towering peaks casting long shadows in the early morning light. His eyes were locked on the cliff face, the rough, jagged rocks mocking him from afar. He had climbed mountains before, but this would be different. This time, there were no harnesses, no safety ropes—just his bare hands and the unrelenting weight of multiple boulders strapped tightly to his back.

With a deep breath, Rikuya pushed himself forward, his hands gripping the rocky surface with raw power. The boulders dug into his back, each step upward sending a fresh wave of strain across his body. Sweat poured from his brow, but he didn't stop. The mountain was an enemy, but it was also his only chance at improving his strength and resilience.

His hands bled from the roughness of the rock, but he ignored the sting. His focus was sharp—each movement deliberate, controlled, calculated. His muscles screamed in protest as he hoisted himself higher, one hand after another. The boulders seemed to grow heavier with every inch he climbed, the weight pressing harder against his shoulders, pulling him down, threatening to break him. But Rikuya didn't care. The pain was just a distraction. The summit, the goal he had set for himself, was all that mattered.

As his feet found purchase on a narrow ledge, he took a moment to glance below, surveying the long drop that would end in nothing but a brutal fall. The sight didn't faze him. In fact, it drove him forward. With another deep breath, he pulled himself higher, the mountain seeming to shake with the intensity of his effort.

Each time his fingers slipped, each time the weight of the boulders tried to drag him down, Rikuya dug in deeper. His grip tightened until his fingers nearly cracked, and his muscles screamed for rest, but he pressed on. Every inch he gained was another victory, another testament to his willpower.

The climb seemed endless, the distance to the top growing farther with each moment. But Rikuya's gaze never wavered. His heart was steady, his mind sharp. With every handhold, every step upward, he felt himself growing stronger. The boulders didn't weigh him down—they empowered him. They were a constant reminder of his burden, but also of his determination.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Rikuya reached the summit. His breath was ragged, his hands raw and covered in blood, but he had made it. He stood at the peak of the mountain, the world stretching out below him. The wind howled around him, tugging at his hair, but he stood tall, unbowed. He had conquered the mountain, and more importantly, he had conquered his own limits.

As he stood there, taking in the breathtaking view, a wave of satisfaction washed over him. The boulders, heavy and oppressive, felt lighter now. The mountain beneath him had been an obstacle, but it was now a part of him, a testament to his strength.

After a few moments of rest, Rikuya began his descent, careful but swift. The mountain had been conquered, and now he had to return to the town, where the others were no doubt waiting for him. He knew that the tournament would soon be upon them, but he also knew that he would be ready. His body was tested, his spirit was unbreakable, and his resolve was forged in the fires of his training.

As he made his way back down, the weight of the boulders on his back seemed a little lighter, his steps a little steadier. He was ready for whatever came next—no matter how brutal or unforgiving it would be.

Rikuya landed lightly at the base of the mountain, arms aching, breath steaming in the morning chill. Dirt streaked his forearms, and his shirt clung to his torso, torn slightly at the shoulder. As he straightened, rolling his neck with a grunt—

He sensed her.

There, sitting on a mossy stone under a shaft of golden sunlight filtering through the leaves, was the rabbit woman. Brown skin glowing, her long ears twitching slightly in greeting. The thin wrappings over her chest and hips fluttered in the breeze, leaving her sculpted thighs and strong midriff bare and radiant in the morning light.

He froze, heartbeat ticking upward.

She looked up at him—not startled, not shy. Just… expectant.

"You again," he murmured, stepping forward.

She rose slowly. Her deep, amber gaze locked on him. She couldn't speak, but she didn't need to. Her eyes told him everything—recognition, welcome… and something more heated, more primal.

She approached without hesitation.

One finger slid up his chest, slow and deliberate, tracing the sweat-beaded skin over his heartbeat. Her head tilted slightly as she studied him—muscles, scars, fatigue. Her touch was gentle but firm, like a silent scolding for pushing too far.

Rikuya gave a quiet laugh. "You here to lecture me again?"

She responded by placing both hands on his shoulders and pushing—lightly at first—until he stepped back against a tree. Then her body pressed close. Her warmth, her scent, her toned belly against his abs. The closeness was overwhelming.

Her thigh brushed between his legs deliberately. Not by accident. Rikuya's breath hitched.

He didn't stop her.

Instead, he cupped her face, staring deep into those golden eyes. "You always show up when I'm falling apart," he whispered.

She leaned in, forehead touching his. Her hands roamed his sides, firm and slow, learning the shape of him. Then, teasingly, she bit his earlobe.

That did it.

He grabbed her waist, spinning her gently and pressing her back against the same tree. She gave no resistance. Her legs wrapped around him instinctively. Their bodies aligned in perfect rhythm—clothes scraping softly between them as heat and friction built.

The air filled with the sound of leaves rustling, of breathless exhales, of soft gasps escaping parted lips.

His hand slid up her spine, her fingers tangled in his hair.

They moved together—not in a brawl, but a heated dance.

Trees swayed. A branch cracked overhead.

Thud.

Another tree quivered.

Thud.

The sounds of the forest faded, overtaken by the beat of hearts and the quiet, desperate need to feel something real.

Time slowed. A sigh. A moan. A breathless chuckle. Fingers explored, muscles tensed, and the world narrowed to just them.

When it was over, she curled into his chest, her hand resting over his heart. Rikuya exhaled, stroking her ear gently.

"You're trouble," he whispered.

She purred softly, nuzzling into him.

But she didn't deny it.

The forest had calmed. Sunlight dappled through the branches overhead, and the warmth of her bare legs still wrapped around him as she lay lazily across his lap, both of them nestled against the tree's trunk. Rikuya ran a hand down her back, watching how her skin reacted to even the lightest touch—shivering, goosebumps rising, her breathing deep and slow.

But then—she shifted.

Not away.

Closer.

Her soft hand pressed against his chest again, this time firmer, her body adjusting against his with purpose. She lifted her hips slightly, thighs flexing with strength and heat as she pinned him down—not with force, but with challenge.

He raised a brow. "Oh? Round two?"

She answered by licking his jawline in a long, deliberate stroke. Her breath tickled his ear.

He groaned quietly. "You're definitely not letting me rest."

She leaned back just enough for him to see the playful gleam in her amber eyes. One hand trailed down his torso, fingers tracing every dip of muscle with maddening slowness. Her thighs squeezed him lightly, rhythmically, tauntingly.

The second round began with no need for words.

Their bodies moved again, more urgently now. The friction between sweat-slicked skin, the press of muscle against muscle, the heat building like coals being stoked into flame. Her moans were soft but relentless, biting down gently on his shoulder when the sensations overwhelmed her.

Rikuya matched her pace. Matched her hunger.

The tree shook again. This time harder.

Leaves rained down like confetti around them. The sounds that escaped them weren't shy—grunts, gasps, the shuffle of clothes barely holding together, the thump of movement against bark.

She clung to him, not just for passion, but for something unspoken—trust, safety, knowing he was the only one who truly saw her. The broken yet strong rabbit warrior who had never needed words to be understood.

He cupped her face again, kissing her forehead as they slowed, her body trembling in his arms, breathless but smiling.

"You're wild," he murmured, voice low.

She nudged her nose against his chin and tugged his ear with her teeth again—her answer clear.

He laughed quietly, holding her close as the forest slowly settled around them once more.

The forest grew louder, but not because of birds or wind.

Thud... thud... THUD.

The tree behind them rocked again as the second round climbed to a fever pitch. Rikuya's hands gripped her waist as she moved over him—strong, smooth muscles flexing under his fingers, her brown skin glistening with sweat under dappled sunbeams. Her thighs, firm and full, tightened around his hips with every rhythm, creating a hypnotic slap-slap sound that echoed faintly through the woods.

He breathed through his teeth, eyes locked on her flushed face. Her ears twitched with every motion, drooping at times when her body gave in to a shiver or wave of heat. Her soft panting turned breathless. She leaned forward again, forehead pressed against his, noses touching—silent, raw, real.

Shhhhff!—leaves trembled as his back arched, pinning her to the bark with sudden strength. She gasped sharply—no words—but her clawed fingers raked down his back with a needy drag. Her toes curled against the earth, heels digging into his calves, urging him deeper into the moment.

The sounds continued:

Rustle. Slam. Huff. Moan.

Nature seemed to hush around them, as if the forest itself were holding its breath. The creaking of branches, the rustling grass, the snap of bark beneath clenched fists—all of it added to the symphony of their connection.

Rikuya pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, whispering, "You're... relentless."

She responded by grabbing his hand and placing it firmly on her lower back, urging him to move again. Her smirk was daring, lips parted, cheeks flushed.

He chuckled darkly. "Alright, you asked for it."

And the forest shook.

A squirrel bolted from a nearby bush. A bird squawked and flew off. More leaves drifted down like rain as the duo gave in once again, bodies colliding with raw heat and mutual understanding.

No words.

Just rhythm. Breath. Skin. And the sound of two wild spirits burning in sync under the watchful eye of the trees.

Round three didn't begin with motion—it began with a stare.

Rikuya lay on his back in the grass, chest rising and falling, breath ragged. The rabbit woman knelt beside him, her thighs speckled with flecks of dirt and her soft brown skin glowing in the golden afternoon light. Her chest heaved gently, rising beneath the minimal cloth she wore. Her eyes, deep and unreadable, locked onto his—silent, wild, needing more.

Without a word, she climbed onto him again, slowly—like a predator reclaiming her prey.

Thump.

His hands instinctively found her waist, fingers tightening as she rocked forward. She leaned down, forearms braced against his shoulders, their noses nearly touching. Her breath fanned over his lips—hot and short—while her hips began to move again in a rhythm that felt like waves crashing against the shore.

Whap. Whap. Whap.

The sound was louder now, more primal. Each slap of skin echoed through the forest like a drumbeat. Their bodies glistened with sweat, heat rising off them like steam from a hot spring.

Rikuya groaned low in his throat, the kind that rumbled from his chest and vibrated against her collarbone. His hands trailed from her waist to the curve of her back, fingers drawing slow, possessive circles into her skin.

She responded with a whimper—a soft, breathy one—as she leaned down and pressed her forehead into the crook of his neck, her ears brushing his cheek, twitching with every shift of pressure.

Thud. The bark behind Rikuya cracked slightly from his grip. Thwack. Her hips slapped harder into his, and her toned thighs flexed, drawing in tighter.

Then came the crescendo—motion blurring, the two of them pressing closer and closer until it felt like they might vanish into each other. The sounds became a wild mix of gasps, moans, and the rhythmic collision of skin on skin.

Snap. Whap. Huff. Pant. Slam.

Finally, she collapsed into him, her chest against his, both of them trembling slightly from the raw intensity. No words passed. There were none needed.

Above them, a few leaves fell, drifting lazily through the hot forest air.

Below them, the grass was flattened and warm.

Rikuya brushed her hair back from her face, smiling faintly. "You're impossible…"

She responded by nuzzling into his neck with a content, breathless sigh—silent affection in every touch.