In the outskirts of a dense forest, where the land kissed the sandy shores of the ocean, a large herd of microfluffs painfully took in their new surroundings.
The fluffies were here by mistake. A poorly secured colony fell off the back of a pickup truck, a late addition snuck hastily into the packed bed of the truck by a young teen who couldn't stand the idea of going camping without their new microfluff colony. A much bigger colony than it had any right to be. 200 microfluffs crammed into a much too small nest. A spendy start, no doubt paid for by an entire summer of mowing lawns.
You are Pip, a blue Microfluff earthie stallion and you are trying valiantly and with very little hope to get all fluffies to the top of the nest, the tunnels shaking and gel falling in clumps, you know this chamber will not last much longer. You take note of the fluffies you have herded so far into the smaller, more stable tunnel with you, and there is one fluffy missing.
You look behind you seeing a soon mummuh moving as fast as she can towards tunnel. You move to run towards her but are cut off by falling biogel blocking the entrance to the tunnel. You hear mummuh’s screams for just a moment longer before they are suddenly silenced. Looking at the other Fluffs in the tunnel you collect yourself and say “Fwuffies am not safe hewe. Haf to keep mubin.” You and at least 30 other microfluffs are 3 antichambers from the surface. Pushing on into the tunnel you approach the next chamber.
As the chamber comes into view, you see something very alarming. The outside world zooming past you at impossible speeds. You see this blur of trees and river through the cracked glass and Nutrigel. You hope you can get to the surface before another violent shake. As you step out into this chamber you hear a loud creaking sound. Then you are forced to the floor of the nest by forces you have no hope of understanding and a moment later you are weightless floating through the air of the nest.
The nest, has taken quite a beating and sits in a very precarious position, for the last 2 hours the nest has been working its way up, a consequence of being hastily stuffed between the sleeping bags at the back of the truck. At this point, it is cracked and leaning precariously against the side of the truck bed.
Then it happens. While the truck is rounding a corner, the front tire hits a small pothole giving the unsecured nest a bounce. Propelled by momentum it flies over the side of the bed of the truck, sailing through the air, over the driving barriers, over where the vegetation drops steeply becoming the beach.
The nest crashes, its glass walls shattering and spilling its nutrigel and fluffies onto a fortunately soft patch of sand.
You are Pip, and you are just waking up. The pain in your body says don't move but the cries of the herd make you look around. Straining to get up you stand. You find yourself on sand surrounded by moaning fluffies, sharp shattered glass, and the occasional toy block. “Uh nu, big twubbwes” you say.
