Contemplating setting CHILD:1 on the dwarf entity raws, so I can get as many up and out, and leverage my genepool as much as possible.
This actually contributed to the downfall of my fort.
So I start up the rabbit fortress, and everything looks pretty normal. Gorilla civilization over there, Goblins over here, and hey, the rabbit mountainhome has hostile relations with the Tigermen (not at war, but they do have the menacing red -------, just like the Goblins). That should be fun.
Embarking is pretty normal. I chuckle as I picture little rabbits leading giant war dogs around by their collars, not to mention the draft animals. Everyone digs in, and I'm pleasantly surprised when DFHack's "fastdwarf 1" works on the rabbits. Zoom, little lagomorphs!
Then one of my farmers has triplets. Right, I forgot to add the [MULTIPLE_LITTER_RARE] tag. Well, they are rabbits, after all. Then another rabbit births another bunch of triplets. And then another.
Twenty-five rabbits, nine of which are children. Not, I will have you note, babies. Children. Rabbits apparently come out of their mothers nearly full grown (well, about a fourth of the size according to the raws). But these are not helpless wailing infants that can be used as shields in a pinch. They do work around the fort, follow their mothers around, and complain endlessly about clothing.
I'm far too used to dwarves. I had made the first priority of the fort alcohol, and the farms and still were one of the first things I constructed. What I should have done was set up a temporary well, a loom, and a clothier's.
All nine children periodically tantrum; sometimes all nine at once, other times taking turns. They've killed the cat. They've killed one of the puppies. Stone doors get torn off their hinges, and tables get overturned. Slowly, ever so slowly, the newly-designated clothier makes his way to the workshop ... and declares that there's no cloth. Right. I used an old dwarf embark profile that has all of five pieces of cloth reserved for the hospital. Well then.
I set up a new (large) farm for pig tails, but that will take months before I can harvest. The bunnies may kill each other before then. Casting around for options, I send off one of my rabbits to gather some plants from the outside. Maybe there will be enough rope reed ... why, hello, Mr. Kobold! So nice of you to visit! And what a nice dagger you have ...
I've mentioned before that kobolds vs rabbits is very one-sided. The kobold decides to prove this by a lucky stab to the head before he flees. The would-be gatherer lies in the field for a little while before I realize that I haven't had time to make coffins, or set up a necropolis. The other rabbits begin to lose their minds to grief. The halls of the mountain get their first coating of rabbit blood, which starts the tantrums in earnest.
I'm down to five rabbits. None of the children made it through the chaos, and two of the five switch between tantrums and calming down enough to get some work done. Maybe, just maybe, this burrow will make it. Maybe I can get some clothes made. Maybe ...
EDIT: Down to one rabbit, tantruming in the dark. He's hungry, and thirsty, and extremely angry about all of his friends dying. He doesn't care about the poetic tale of the fortress that died for the want of a pig tail. He only knows that everyone in his life is dead. And that he's very thirsty.
He tries to make it to the barrels of ale that I've placed near every stairwell, but his thoughts keep turning to his friends and family, rotting in the dark halls, and he gets angry and forgets to drink. Then the thirst or his growling stomach brings him back to reality, only for him to go through the cycle again and again.
The last rabbit of the fortress finally curls up to die, raging against the world, not two tiles away from the bloody spot that marks where the first naked bunny killed the cat.