Crouching low to the ground, Freyja squared a Bunny up in between the crosshairs of her rifle. Watching it closely as it skipped and hopped across the street, she inhaled deeply, allowing the oxygen to catch in her lungs as she lightly squeezed the trigger. As the bullet released, she exhaled deeply and had just about finished expelling air when the bullet smashed through the Bunny. Walking over, she picked up the now still Bunny, blood covering its fur, and threw it into a thick brown sack that she had been carrying around with her, along with several of it's Bunny cousins. 

She wasn't entirely sure what had brought this invasion of Bunny's to the streets of Los Angeles, but it transported her right back to her Norwegian childhood. As soon as rabbit season started, her father would take her and her siblings out into the woods with him, teaching them to shoot straight, to aim true, to skin their kills. And when they returned home, they would pass the spoils over to her mother, who would make the most mouthwatering stews imaginable. Just the mere thought of her mama's rabbit stew was enough to bring a dreamy expression across Freyja's face. A few more Bunny's and she could surely spend the evening trying to whip up her own version for Odin-III and the rest of Valhalla back at the HQ. 

Knowing that the gunshots would have startled all the Bunny's in the area and set them off scattering in opposite directions for the next hour or so, Freyja took the opportunity to sit on a nearby wall in the warmth of the sun. Setting her bag down beside her, she pulled out the most recent Bunny kill and a sharp knife and began to skin the fur from it. As she worked, a thought came to her. Noticing a few faces she recognized milling about on the streets, she began to speak, not planning too carefully what she was saying, just allowing the words to spill out.

"How important is where we come from? How important in our world today are our heritages, our traditions, our backgrounds? I see very little of people expressing where they came from, of people sharing details of their lives before they joined our world.

Perhaps this is a good thing. Perhaps this is how it should be. Perhaps once our feet touch the ground in one of the six cities of our world, we are all Americans, we are all gangsters, and that is all that matters. Perhaps this is how our world should and does operate.

But what if, in not really sharing so much of our backgrounds, in not coming to the streets and expressing where we each came from, we are depriving our world, and our streets, of little snatches of colour and flavour and individuality that might make the world we live and interact in that little bit more interesting? Perhaps we should share more of these backgrounds, the places that we came from. 

It interests me to know what people think about this. Do you enjoy it when people lay out their histories, either when joining our world or in snatches throughout their lives? Do you enjoy seeing people express a culture through their suits and their tags and their actions? Or do you prefer to see all mafiosi express themselves similarly, to act similarly, to be part of a single culture rather than express many different ones? 

Hearing a few loud reports from what Red-Cloud knew was a fairly large caliber rifle he walks closer to see what's going on and maybe get in on some action. Walking up over the nearest ridgeline Red-Cloud sees Freyja kneeled down over what's left of a rabbit in attempts to skin it out. Red-Cloud being an expert hunter decided to get Freyja's attention and give them some tips on how to be a more successful hunter.

"Hey there, I heard you shoot that rabbit there with your rifle as I was walking through the wood looking for my own Mr. Hoppity and wanted to share with you what I do. My ancestors always used this in the past" Red-Cloud pulls his bow from his back and shows Freyja. "Rabbits never hear it coming so getting a follow up shot is a lot easier. I know it's not the most popular thing to use, and that's why I want to also show you this", Red-Cloud pulls a shotgun from his back and shows Freyja. "Now this is what you are going to be interested in, it's not silent at all but I see that you are trying to use what's left of that rabbit there after shooting him with your rifle. With one of these your gonna have a little bit more left of Mr. Hoppity other than an ear after you shoot him. Here, take it. I'm much more proficient with my bow and arrow as that's what I was raised up using before the white men came in and forced us to live in the Great Fathers ways."

Red-Cloud set down the shotgun, pulled an arrow from his quiver and took off in the area he seen a white flash from where he knew a bunny was hiding.