The rabbit sighed and began to gesture while standing on his legs.
Its paws compared the size of its own head, expressing its dissatisfaction with its small, pathetic shell of a body, too short to even reach his knee when jumping.
Then it pitifully took out half a carrot, caressed the vegetable with a look of deep grievance as if to say that even a rabbit's weapons were meager and shabby.
Finally, it stretched out a furry little short leg with a tearful appearance, as if saying, "You take one step to my five, what is there to dislike?"
Baili An was dumbfounded; his family's rabbit, unable to speak human language, was somehow still capable of comforting people in various ways, truly talented.
Yet seeing the despair and helplessness in the rabbit's eyes, he knew it was genuinely dissatisfied with its current form.
