I am no rabbit- a jump in rp

Harrison absolutely despised forests. Not even this one in particular, just all forests, as a matter of principal. He hated a lot of things, and would tell you about why he hated those things in great detail, if you were unfortunate enough to have commented. But at that moment he was occupied with something much more troubling. He had happened across a dog, as he was making his way very vaguely down the same path that Marshall had selected. And the dog, a large golden creature with a stupid look on it's face, was being evasive. It was standing just off the path, tongue lolling, staring at him. And Harrison hated this dog, he hated it, already he had decided that he did, with lots of frustrated cursing to punctuate this fact. But it could very well have been his one and only ticket out of here. Because, as it happened, Harrison was lost. He had been for several hours and it was becoming more and more concerning by the minute. And dogs, dogs were good at smelling things. They always knew where they were. So his master plan was to capture, and then attempt to follow, this dog. He knew it was ridiculous, but he was on the verge of tears and his nice clothes were ruined and he felt like he might just turn around and punch a tree at any moment now. Harrison took a pace forward. The dog barked, and the dog ran off into the trees, and Harrison punched the nearest trunk. And then he cried, because that was probably the most terrible decision he'd made all day, and now he was quite sure his hand was broken.

Harrison had sat down and lent against the tree, very occupied with being miserable and wallowing in self-pity. He jolted when he heard a voice, turning around with an unreadable expression. In truth he was just about wetting himself with fear, but he was good at hiding that. Seeing a man - or, what, a were-rabbit? He decided that he wasn't in any immediate danger. Probably. And he looked like an arse, crying and swearing at a dog. "No, not my dog. Just found 'im." He said, watching Marshall with a wary expression.

Harrison didn't really like company all that much. He was much more contented to be on his own, working or plotting or whatever else it was that he spent his time on. But in this particular instance, with absolutely no other option than to oblige this strange man-rabbit, he decided to curb his nasty behaviour. "'m lost." He said, all lower-class english accent and the slightest smirk. "Wasn't particularly concerned about being killed by a rabbit, honestly. But I appreciate the sentiment."

Harrison raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't be surprised? What's that supposed to mean?" He asked him, picking himself up and dusting off. He was a mess, hair flopping down from it's usually very neat position, pushed back off his face. His clothes, dark, expensive looking materials that were probably a suit, were torn in several places and had mud, grass and blood stains in various places. "What's with the ears then?" He asked him, pointing at the very obvious rabbit ears and raising a quizzical eyebrow. "Those are rabbit ears, I'm not blind."

Harrison sniffed, but didn't deny it. He hardly came out here at all, only when it was absolutely necessary. And he'd been on a track with a bunch of rich, pompous ***** that had been hoping to hunt some game. Obliged, as he was, to help carry things and be of assistance, he'd had no choice but to go along with it and follow suit. And now here he was, lost and pissy and so very rueful of those son's of grinches. "Right. They're your ears. And you're a rabbit." He affirmed, giving a half-smile that was more of a smirk than anything friendly.

Harrison gave a chuckle and seemed to be highly entertained by Marshall's loss of composure. "Do you prefer the term 'hare'?" He asked him, leaning against the tree with a look that didn't hide his rather snide amusement. If there was one thing Harrison liked, it was having some sort of control over a situation. And now he felt that he had that. Unluckily for him, he had no idea what sort of person he was dealing with here.

Harrison let out a startled sound and attempted to back away, which, considering he was leaning against the tree, only yielded very slim success. "You're not a rabbit or a hare! You're, you're just a man. With ears. That are your ears. And a gun. Put the gun down." He babbled, all composure and cockiness lost to his overpowering sense of self preservation. When it came to being a lame, spineless pushover at the first sign of actual danger, Harrison took the biscuit.

Harrison managed to get himself back in check, slowing his breathing gradually and having to fix his collar in an attempt to compose himself - it was a force of habit that had now lost any meaning, considering his clothes were a wreck regardless of what his collar was doing. Swallowing and managing to clear his throat, cheeks stained pink with the sudden of embarrassment at reacting the way he did, he did his best to offer some helpful information. "Uh, I was on a hunting trip. With my employer. We weren't heading anywhere, really, but now I haven't the slightest clue as to where I am."

Harrison looked even more uncomfortable. In fact, he looked a little bit ashamed, and incredibly embarrassed. "Uh, see... I was supposed to hold stuff for them, and, well keep our base or something, while they hunted. And I wandered around a bit, and sort of had a look around, y'know?" He cleared his throat again, looking off somewhere else so he didn't have to make eye contact. "I was really tired. Really. So I sort of... Had a bit of a lay down. Out of sight from them. You probably get the rest."

Harrison looked highly pessimistic. "First one'd be a waste of time. I already looked back there. They've packed up and gone home. Probably telling their children stories about how I was eaten by wolves or something by now." He thought for a moment, fear flashing across his face when being shot was apparently put on the table. "I'd rather you left me to rot than shot me. But, the town, if you're heading that way. Sounds like an idea."

Harrison arched an eyebrow at that running his fingers through his hair in some desperate, failed attempt at regaining some of his usually unbreakable composure. He'd never looked so ragged in his life, which was really saying something, considering he'd come from one of the poorest villages in hundreds of miles. "Oh, I'm sure we will. They scare easy. And they're not my friends." Harrison didn't really have friends. But he wasn't about to tell that to a rabbit.

Harrison frowned a little, not liking the way that Marshall was behaving. There was something unbelievable and disconcerting about walking along through a forest with a scheming rabbit as his guide. "There something I should know?" He asked, a little suspiciously, before drawing his tongue over his lips and deciding that he didn't really have any legitimate reason to lie. "Harrison Cromwell."

Harrison raised his eyebrows, actually looking quite surprised. "You realise that they're my employers? I'd get the sack." However, he didn't seem to be incredibly reproachful towards the idea. They did treat him poorly, and paid him a sorry excuse for a wage. "But I like the way you think." He wanted so very much to add 'rabbit' onto the end, but he was a masterful combination of cowardly and intelligent, and there was no way that he was risking having a gun pulled on him once again. He smirked when Marshall told him his name, not missing the irony. "March? Funny, seems I know that from somewhere. Some breed of small brown thing, I think. With long ears."