In the frantic Warren of Briar-Down, Harengons lived fast and died young. Barnaby was the anomaly—a kit who preferred watching the slow creep of moss to the dash of the hunt. When a local blight claimed his entire lineage in a single season, Barnaby refused to accept the silence. He didn't turn to dark gods; he turned to the fundamental threads of the Weave, realizing that 'death' was merely a messy transition that could be tidied with enough care. He spent three centuries mastering the art of keeping things 'just as they were.'
He eventually transcended his mortal span by anchoring his own soul to the 'Velveteen Atlas,' a sentient book of maps that charts not just geography, but the warmth of memories. Barnaby now walks between worlds, a rabbit out of time. He treats the Multiverse as one giant, slightly chaotic garden. He views his necromancy as a form of celestial tailoring—mending the holes where a person used to be so that their wisdom doesn't leak out of the world. He is a grandfather to every orphan and a quiet tutor to every apprentice who fears the dark.