In 1689, I was caught stealing bunnies from an old woman who lived down the lane from our cottage. She was a crass and wicked thing, and true to her nature placed a curse on me for the next 100 years, that I should take the form of a rabbit every fortnight, promptly at 8.
The tender-hearted people of my village, having taken pity on me (for I only wanted to love the rabbit, and care for it as if it were my own child), affectionately called me 'Deirdre-Bunny'.
Well, the name stuck, and 323 years later it still suits me, though the actual curse has long since past.
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