Cassandra puts two and two together

Cassandra and I set about our journey in good spirits. All through the night we paced in gentle, yet certain stride and while I hopped as quietly as I could, trying hard not to disturb the snappy dried twigs on the ground, she moved stealthily, flexing her shoulder blades in effortless silence like a black panther. “You know, us cats usually eat rabbits,” she said. I flinched, trying in vein to contain the involuntary shudder that rolled over my back into the fluff of my tail. “But one cat alone wouldn’t dream of taking on a mature rabbit. A kick from a bunny’s back-paw could dislocate the spine of all but the most formidable vertebrate. And anyway, don’t worry about me. I um.. kinda like you, Bunny Bunzenburner.” “Hey, I told you my name is Ben,” I tried, but it was too late to disavow my true identity. “Okay, how did you find out?” “It’s the dyed fur, baby. I’m a natural black, so you don’t fool me with the fake tar pitch you got going. From there it was easy. I mean, your disappearance was all over the news.” “It was?” “Uhu! I think some artists are in a studio somewhere right now recording some kind of tribute album.” “You don’t say.” “Yeah, they interviewed a friend of yours,… what’s his name..” “Svenbärd?” “No it was this rapper, Puffy Diddel or something. Anyway, he was all like, Bunny had been depressed lately and such and so forth. I mean, nothing was missing from your house. They said it was like you’d simply jumped into the arctic waters and vanished. There were vigils and wreaths and whatnot, special news bulletins whenever some prime minister, rock star or Middle Eastern monarch flew in to pay his respects to your empty burrow.” “Good Lord,” I said. “Why did you leave, Bunny Bunzenburner?” “Let’s set up camp, I’ll tell you all about it.”