Bunny sat back on his heels and looked up at his fellow Guardians. His gaze dropped to look over the wreckage of…something. He wasn’t quite sure what it had been meant to be. Whatever it was, it was reduced to a mangled mess now.
His eyes followed the trail of scattered pieces, metal and wood, painted and not, mundane as dirt and sparking with magic, lying forlornly amongst the screws and bolts flung far and wide. He examined the trench left by the landing, the point of impact that had catapulted both Guardians out of the creation, the main body of the thing sticking vertically out of the ground, with long suffering patience.
Bunny took a deep breath and held if for the count of ten.
Nope. Didn’t help.
Bunny took another deep breath before looking back up at where Jack and North hung, tangled in ropes and vines, dirty and scraped up but otherwise unharmed, and grinning down at him with identically sheepish, if unrepentant, grins.
“Ya know what?” he said, glaring up at his fellow Guardians with an equal mix of disgust and amusement. “I’m not sure what ya were tryin’ to do, but this seems like a perfect example of how not to do it.”