Mo sat slumped against his desk, his nose pressed up against his rabbit's nose as they stared deep (and cross-eyed) into one another's eyes. Ostensibly, he was trying to get permission from the rabbit to subvert its will and turn it into a hat. A HAT. Not even something necessary or lovely, but something flip and occasionally quite stupid looking.

But he couldn't get any sort of feel. The rabbit was just lethargic and uninterested in communicating, and Mo just felt BAD about things. "Lepus Caput," he tried out the words, giving the rabbit another inquisitive look. "If you agree to this, flick your ear. If you'd rather I not, then wiggle your nose." Pause pause pause.

No motion. Sigh.