Derek nods as if he understands, but he’s quite disoriented. His mind is operating on a hundredth of its processing power, and he’s only now coming to the realization that this is a trial, let alone one in which he is the defendant. He realizes, too, that the prosecutors are rabbits, wearing grey suits and unpacking briefcases. And the bailiff is a dark brown rabbit in a sheriff’s uniform. And the stenographer is a rabbit with cat-eye glasses and curly red hair, and she waits to type something out, and she looks at him, and he briefly thinks he’d like to smell her hair.