Silvertip Mountain Dear Rabbit

She really liked the story. And he enjoyed it when someone did. So he continued, but his tail halted it's swaying. For he was about to reach the end. And with most of his tales, there was a dark, upsetting side to them. He cleared his throat for the last time, then continued on to the end.

"The pup grew until it could hunt by itself. It thanked the hare, and went off, promising to return. And indeed it did. But upon arriving, it felt hungry. It sought out food, scrounging through the underbrush. Until it found something. Some movement in a bush. Without thinking, it's hunger drove it forward. In one swift strike, the creature is dead. But when the wolf looked upon it's prey, it shuddered in horror. For the one it had killed, was the one who had cared for it. The very..same..hare."

He finished there, resting his head on his forepaws. The story had been so joyful at the start. And with the sudden change, how would she react? He could only wait for the reaction before he could be satisfied.