Dahlia tucks her covers close over her nose; when her tired eyes adjust to the dim light of the room she finds it... dusty. And not Dust Bunny dusty. Almost... abandoned...

The mare jolts up un her bed, frustrated at the lack of attentive service she demands. “Bunny! Don’t make me walk down stairs! Oooh- You know how mad I get when you make me walk down stairs!” Cover fling.

She begins her grumpy stomp down the stairs, far too cheesed to notice the cobwebs, dust and worn wood around her. “I know you’re here! I can smell your musty-dusty mane and tail from up here!!!”

“He-llooooo~?!” She stops at the last step, glancing through a doorway into the front of the shop and behind her into the kitchen. It looks like a haunted house.

Very un-dainty sneeze. “AUGH! BUNNY! THIS ISN’T VERY FUNNY!”

“I’M GUNNA THROW A FIT! AUGH!” She screeches, BUCKING over a nearby vase... on accident. It shatters, scattering an... unusual amount of dust on the floor. Once the pieces settle there is nothing but silence. Too much silence. Deafening, painful silence...

“.....”

“This sucks.”

Day ??? (She can’t count that high) of LWB (Life Without Bunny). She has resorted to eating decorative fruit because the fridge is completely empty. Spits out a piece of foam apple. “Ough! This one is bad!” Apple toss.

Is better than all of you because she has more royal titles.

Day ???????? of life without Dust Bunny. Currently, she’s staring out of the front window of the shop, deflating like a leaking parade balloon as she waits for any familiar signs of life. Nothing.

“If BUNNY isn’t going to come back, and all of the decorative fruit is GONE... OH NO! I have to go-“ She recoils away from the window with her forehooves. “TO THE STORE!....”

“Store.... Grocery.... MMMH... MONEY PAYMENT... AUGH! NO FREE SAMPLES! GENERIC BRANDS! I CAN’T! NO, I CAN’T! NOT AFTER LAST TIME!” She’s experiencing something.

“YOUR SUPREME ROYAL HIGHNESS PRINCESS BLACK DAHLIA DOES NOT GROCERY SHOP! SHE WRITES THE LISTS! SHE DOES NOT PUSH THE CART LIKE A LITTLE CIRCUS MONKEY!” Window BANGBANGBANG.

“...” Dahlia scrambles back behind the counter, popping the till with a cloud of dust to see a small scattering of bits left behind. Still somewhat expecting Bunny’s ire out of habit, she takes a glance around before stretching her neckpiece and scooping the bits inside.

“Bunny, I know you told me not to ‘steal’ but...” She air-quotes, speaking to the emptiness of the antique store. “I don’t ‘care’.”

She quickly goes to work, digging through the old bits, bobs and deadly artifacts to see if there are any more rainy day bits stashed away for her to lift for her own survival. Vase dump. Box shake. (It moans.) Drawer pull.