The inside of a bunny’s ear has a slightly dusty smell. It is a clean smell, like the scent that blows from an open doorway of an upscale antique shop located on the seaside. Chiffarobes and Queen Anne’s chairs are wrapped up in a fine layer of gray. The smell of seawater hangs in the air. Dust and seawater. Bunnies could fly in ancient times. Think about it. Long ears shooting ahead of them, perked and primed to pick up underwater threat. Their back legs powerful kickers, collapsing at the knees and then pushing out in furious strokes while their front paws paddled. They still carry well muscled bodies. Watch them leap outside and tell me they weren’t made for swimming.
Bunnies’ ears are lined with the finest down to filter out contaminants. The ears are lined in a soft pink, sometimes gray. Silky and dry like baby powdered flesh that slips from your touch.