You think that a few bright and dark-times have passed since your unfortunate birth, though with your eyes closed, you can’t really tell other than the changes in temperature. Every dark-time, once your mummah finishes singing her mummah songs to you off in the distance, your daddeh comes over and pours milkies into your chirpy-place. After nearly choking you a second time, it seemed like he finally got the idea through his head that he needed to be careful how many milkies he brought you. He would only bring you milkies once every time, though, as he was far too afraid of waking up mummah during her sleepies. You would fall asleep every single dark-time with horrible tummy-hurties, but just enough milkies in you to not starve. You hated it so, so much. No fair at all!
While you love your daddeh, you do wish your mummah would spend more time with you, too. The only time you interact with her is once or twice every bright-time, whenever she’s adding a lot more not-smell-pretty stuff to your nestie, no matter how much you try to ask her not to. Your nestie smells bad enough already! She even gets the warm icky stuff on you! Sometimes even in your mouthie on accident! It tastes so terrible, nothing like milkies at all! You cry for her to stop, but every time, all she ever says is,
“Dummeh poopie babbeh! Shaddup! Num mummah’s poopies, dummeh!”
You don’t know why she sounds so angry, and it gives you the biggest heart-hurties every single time. She always forgets to hug you and give you milkies, too, which hurts you even more. At least she isn’t angry whenever she sings her songs to you, far away. You miss her so much.
At least your daddeh makes his not-smell-pretty stuff off to the side, away from you. Though you can still smell it anyways, making you really sad.
Eventually, though, you think you begin to get used to the smell. It’s hard not to, when it’s the only thing overpowering your nosie at all times. You tried to crawl your way out of the nestie once or twice, but the pain in your hurt leggie made you stop both times. Once, though, your mummah dropped something different down next to you, a new scent. At least, you thought it was new at first, but after a little while, you realized that through the scent of your nestie, you could smell your forever-sleepies brother right next to you now! And he smelled so, so bad, even worse than the icky stuff. It was so scary, all you could do was cry and squirm all bright-time long. When the dark-time came, though, you think your daddeh moved your brother away, because you never smelled him again after that, and you quickly forgot about him altogether.
That was how you spent the time, all the time, ever since you were born. So hungry, on the brink of starvation with the worstest tummy-owwies, and yet with just enough milkies to survive. Not pretty smells all around you, never going away, replenished every single day by your mummah. Unable to move, to crawl away from it all due to the incredible hurties in your leggie. If you were an older fluffy, you would’ve probably fallen into complete and utter despair by now. But as it was, you still didn’t possess anything but the most basic of thought processes for the time being.
Nothing really got better once your eyes opened, either.
“Chirp! Chirp! Peep…chirp?”
A weird twitching sensation washed over your face, and then suddenly, you could…you could see? How strange! Your world was filled with blurry color all of a sudden, and the more you blinked, the more clear you could see. Your see-places were open! You were so excited, you couldn’t wait to show mummah and daddeh! You looked around for the first time, taking in your surroundings.
It was dark-time right now, you were sure of that, though a dim light shone above you, illuminating the area with a soft orange glow, just bright enough to make you not very scared, just a little bit. Sometimes it’d flicker on and off, and that was really scary! In front, behind, and to the right of you, there was a red wall, making the place you were in feel kind of like a boxie, not that you really knew what a boxie was. There was a big, metallic part of the red wall in front of you, with a weird knob on it, though you had no idea what that was either.
To your right and up ahead a bit, there was a hole in the big, red wall next to you, and you could swear that was where mummah was singing her songs from. Mummah was in there, you could hear her! Knowing better by now than to try to crawl, out of fear of owwies in your leggie, you shout out some more chirps and peeps, which sadly go unanswered. You sniffle a bit, tears welling up in your newly-opened see-places. You want to show mummah so bad! She’d be so happy and proud, you just know it!
To your left, was another wall, but it was different than the one to your right. It was made out of weird metallic strings, it looked like, criss-crossing each other all the way down to the ground, and you could see right through it. There was a small gap towards the bottom, just the right size for a fluffy to go in and out of. Out there, it was very very dark, which made you squeeze some icky stuff out of your rear in terror! You could see some more night-lights out in the distance, though, which made you feel a little better. Finally, the ground in front of you looked cold and grey, really not pretty at all.
Exploring the whole area with your see-places, you realized that you wanted to know what your nestie looked like, so you looked down! And…and it was the most not pretty thing you had ever seen, and you hadn’t even seen that much! Sickly brown, weird and mushy, and…and it was all over you! Oh no! You instinctively pick up your hoofsies, not wanting them to get filthy in this stuff, and you cry out in pain!
You look at your front right leggie, the source of the hurt. It’s all weird and twisted, and so much smaller than your other leggies. You try to give it huggies to make it better, but that just makes you have even worse owwies in it. You slowly turn around, trying to see what your back looks like, but you just end up squirming around in circles until you’re interrupted by a familiar voice.
“Poopie babbeh? Wha du? Daddeh Cwiff hewe fo’ babbeh naow.”
Your daddeh is here again! Yay! You wiggle back around to face him and chirp happily as you get your first look ever at him. He’s so much bigger than you are, and he has so much more fluff than you do! Big, beautiful red fluff, with a darker red mane, and sparkling blue eyes that light up with happies as soon as he sees that your eyes are open.
gasp “Babbeh’s see-pwaces am open! Daddeh Cwiff am suuuu happies! Cwiff wuv poopie babbeh! Gib huggies!”
You nuzzle up against your daddeh as he gives you a great, big hug, filling your heart with happies. You lift up your one good front leggie, giving him a hug back for the first time. It feels amazing! Though, however happy you may be, you’re even hungrier than that. You let your daddeh know this, and he lets go of you, nodding.
“Otay babbeh, daddeh wiww gu git miwkies fo’ babbeh. Hnn, nee’ make poopies fiwst.”
Your daddeh waddles off to the side, and you watch intently, interested in what he’s doing. He squats his rump downwards, making weird grunty noises as some weird, brown, icky stuff plops out of him. Poopies, he called it…wait. Those look and smell exactly like what your nestie is made out of. Those look and smell exactly like what came out of your rump earlier, when the dark scared you. Looking down at your body, at your hoofsies, those poopies look and smell exactly…exactly like what you look and smell like! Your daddeh and mummah both call you a poopie babbeh…you’re a poopie? But…but you don’t like poopies! No fluffy likes poopies! You don’t want to be a poopie babbeh! No fair!
Tears begin to stream down your face at this revelation, and your broken chirps of sorrow ring out into the dark-time. Realizing this…this is even worse than your hurting tummy right now. Somehow, it makes the smells of your nestie even worse, knowing the truth. Your daddeh finishes up and waddles back over, patting you gently with a hoof.
“Nu wowwy, poopie babbeh. Daddeh knu babbeh hab tummeh-huwties. Daddeh Cwiff bwing babbeh miwkies naow.”
Nothing helps. You continue to cry. Why are you a poopie? You’re a good babbeh! Is that why mummah calls you a dummeh? No! You’re a good babbeh, you just know it! Why else would daddeh bring you milkies every dark-time? You try to give yourself hugs to make the poopie go away, but the meanie stuff doesn’t want to listen to huggies! You don’t understand! You cry even harder, and begin to painfully crawl your way out of the nestie, ignoring your injured leggie. You’ve got to get away from the poopies if they don’t want to go away.
Upon seeing you roll out of your nestie and onto the cold, hard ground, your daddeh frantically spits out the milkies he was carrying in his mouth, and runs over to you as fast as a fluffy can, which is to say, not very fast at all.
“Babbeh! Nu! Nu weave poopie piwe! Spechuw fwiend wiww gib poopie babbeh sowwy-hoofsies if weave poopie piwe!”
Against your protestations, your daddeh picks you up and lays you back into the pile, and once again, you make a frantic dash to escape, wiggling your way out and onto the ground, peeping in discomfort at how cold and hard it is. And once again, your daddeh picks you up and puts you back. Dummeh daddeh! Poopies aren’t good for babbehs!
“Huuhuu, babbeh nu wisten tu daddeh…wha Cwiff du? Huuhuu, babbeh gib Cwiff heawt-huwties…nu wan spechuw fwiend gib babbeh owwies…Cwiff twy summin’…”
You chirp out in slight pain as one of your daddeh’s hoofsies pins you down, holding you firmly in place. Then, your daddeh’s other hoofsie begins to pack poopies on top of your lower body and back leggies. Soon enough, you’re stuck! This is just going to make you even more poopie, and you don’t want that at all! You yell out for help, your two front leggies wiggling around, looking up at your daddeh with tear-filled see-places. But he just grins and nods.
“Cwiff suuuu smawty! Naow babbeh nu git in twouble! Gud poopie babbeh!” yawns “Naow…naow am sweepies-times, babbeh. Cwiff wuv!”
With one more pat on your head, your daddeh waddles away, entering the hole in the wall where your mummah lives. You struggle and twist your body to and fro, but no matter what you do, you just can’t seem to escape the mound of poopies pinning your lower half down. You hate it so much! It smells so bad, and…and your tummy hurts even worse. Oh no.
Your daddeh forgot to give you your milkies tonight.
Perhaps if you could remember your first day alive, you’d think differently…but as it stands, this has been the worst moment of your entire little life.
—————————————————————
You don’t know when you fell asleep, but it feels like you didn’t get any sleepy-times at all by the time you wake up, with how tired you still feel from crying all dark-time. The world is so different in the bright-times! You look around in amazement and wonder at all the beautiful colors. There’s weird green floor stuff outside the not-wall wall, otherwise known as a fence, and a huge ball in the sky out there! You try to look at it, but chirp in pain as you do, your newly-opened see-places burning. Meanie sky-ball, giving you owwies! You decide to never look directly at it again as punishment.
You try to get up and go explore, but…oh. You forgot, your daddeh trapped you in poopies! You quickly resume struggling and crying, not making much progress. The poopies feel much harder than they were last dark-time, which scares you. What if you’re stuck here forever? The very thought makes you squeeze out some scaredy-poopies, which don’t have anywhere to go in the packed-down mound. Oh no, you’re even poopier now!
You don’t know why or how yourself, but with the sky-ball beating down upon your poopie pile, the mound trapping you has grown weaker and brittle. Eventually, your wild thrashing finally manages to break you free from your prison, crumbling the hardened poopies all over. You did it! You let out a peep of triumph, before you’re reminded by a deep growl in your tummy of your other predicament. You’re starving! But now that you’re free, you can try and find mummah, and get milkies straight from her now!
Once again, you roll yourself down from your poopie pile and onto the ground. It’s warm now, not cold, but still hard. Could be worse. You slowly begin to crawl towards the hole in the wall, wincing and peeping in pain every time your little right leggie brushes against the ground. You’re only moving a tiny bit at a time, still being a very young fluffy, but if you just keep trying, you can get there…
Then, thankfully, mummah herself steps out of the hole, the sounds of distressed chirping behind her. Well, that saves you a lot of time. Yay!
“Gud mummah nee’ make gud poopies…sowwy, babbehs. Gib huggies an’ miwkies an’ fwuffpiwe in wittow bit.”
You chirp and call out to her, getting your first look of her ever. And wow, is she a pretty fluffy. She has a soft looking, pink fluffy coat and a beautiful green mane. On her sides, she has weird fluttery thingies. You don’t really know what those are, since you don’t have them yourself. Instinctually, though, you know something that mummah is bound to have for you. Milkies! And you are so hungry right now, your tummy grumbling louder than ever, hunger pains shooting through it.
You chirp some more, desperate to get her attention. This time, you get her to notice you, and she starts to waddle over to you. You stretch your good leggie out to her, excited to hug her for the first time ever! Why does she look so mad, though?
“Dummeh…dummeh poopie babbeh? Wha…wha? Wha…WAI POOPIE BABBEH NU IN POOPIE PIWE? BAD BABBEH!”
Your mummah’s yelling shocks you so much, your malnourished body still manages to eke out a little more poopies in fright. Her hoofsie starts to come swinging towards you, though, so you think she’s going to hug you anyways?
SMACK “SCREEEE! Chirp! Chirp! Chirp!”
Pain explodes throughout your face as you go rolling backwards. You tumble across the hard ground, banging and bruising your frail body. You shakily raise your head up and look at your mummah. Did…did she do that? Why? Why? You just don’t understand. Then, your mummah notices something that makes her eyes go wide.
“Poopie babbeh…poopie babbeh’s see-pwaces open befow udda babbehs? Nu! NU FAIW! POOPIE BABBEH AM BAD BABBEH! CWOSE SEE-PWACES NAOW!”
Why are you bad? You don’t understand! You shut your see-places as hard as you can, but that starts to hurt, so you can’t help but open them again. You chirp as loud as you can, trying to remind your mummah that you’re her babbeh! That you’re a good babbeh! She should be so happy that you can see now!
“Dummeh ugwy babbeh nu wisten tu mummah? BAD POOPIE BABBEH! TAKE SOWWY-POOPIES!”
Your mummah turns around, lifts her tail, and then a torrent of the most vile, burning poopies imaginable sprays your tiny, beaten body from head to hoofsie. You scree as loud as you can, wanting to escape this nightmare. Does…does your mummah not love you? But you love her! You love her so much! It doesn’t make any sense at all to your fluffy brain, or to your fluffy heart. Blinded by poopies, you crawl, shivering with pain and fear, back to the only safe place you’ve ever known. Back to the poopie pile.
“Babbeh nebah weave poopie piwe agin, ow ewse mummah gib poopie babbeh wowstest owwies! Nu wan bad poopie babbeh tu gib udda gud babbehs scawedies! Hmmph!”
Her business taken care of, one way or another, your mummah leaves and squeezes back into her hole. You curl up in the middle of your poopie pile, crying and crying. You try to wipe the poopies from your see-places, but you live in poopies, which makes it difficult to clean anything. Even after you get enough off to see again, your sight is still kind of blurry. Your entire body aches after your tumble. Boo-boo juice is running out of your nosie. You’ve never seen boo-boo juice before, and it sends a shock of fear through your body, causing tears to flow from your burning see-places and frightened chirps to escape your mouthie. You have bad owwies, the most horrible tummy pain, but even worse, you have the biggest heart-hurties a poor babbeh has ever had.
You decide to never leave the poopie pile ever again. At least you’re safe from owwies there. Maybe mummah is just trying to protect you? Even with that thought in mind, you don’t feel much better. You just can’t comprehend why she was so mean to you. You’re a good babbeh, you just know it. You just have to prove it to her somehow. Maybe there’s just something you’re missing, some important piece to the puzzle.
You try to think, but the pain is too much right now, so instead you just settle for curling up and crying for the rest of the bright-times. Eventually, bright turns to dark, your mummah makes more poopies on top of you, though you’re thankful for the warmth it gives, and eventually, once everything quiets down again, your daddeh comes to spit more milkies out for you. At least your daddeh is nice to you…you wish he’d bring you into the warm looking hole with him, though. Maybe if he showed mummah that you were actually a good babbeh, like he always says you are…
————————————————————————
More bright and dark times pass, largely the same. Your body aches horribly after you made mummah mad at you, and you can barely move around. Mummah makes more poopies on you. Daddeh brings you more milkies. You cry and shiver and wish you weren’t a dummeh ugly poopie. All is normal.
Until one dark time, when daddeh comes out to check on you, something changes inside of you. You feel a strange surge in your chest, and instinctively, you call out to your daddeh.
“Peep! Chirp! D-daddeh! Daddeh!”
Your daddeh’s blue eyes light up with amazement, and his talkie-place hangs open for a moment, taken by surprise.
“Babbeh…poopie babbeh am…am tawkie-babbeh naow! Ohhh, daddeh Cwiff suuuuu happies! Gib tawkie-babbeh gud huggies! Gud babbeh!”
“Chirp! Wuv huggies! Peep!”
You don’t know how you’re doing it, but you’re making words come out of your mouthie, just like mummah and daddeh do! You’re so excited, you can finally tell daddeh how much you love him!
“Chirp! Wuv daddeh!”
As he hugs you, tears well in your daddeh’s eyes. Oh no! What did you do wrong now?
“Cwiff…daddeh Cwiff su happies tu heaw babbeh wuv Cwiff! Wuv babbeh! Wuv babbeh!”
“Wuv! Huggies! Wuv! Chirp! Miwkies! Miwkies! Wan miwkies!”
Your amazement with your newfound ability set aside for now, the matter of your always-rumbling tummy comes to the forefront of your mind. You’re so hungry, it’s time for daddeh to bring you milkies! You wait for him to head back to the nestie hole and bring you some, but for some reason, he stops for a moment, looking at you thoughtfully…or at least as thoughtful as a fluffy can be.
“Babbeh smawty tawkie-babbeh naow…babbeh wan git miwkies wif daddeh? Bu’ babbeh nee’ be nu woud! Nu wakies mummah, ow ewse git sowwy-hoofsies!”
You feel tears welling up in your see-places, being reminded of the last sorry-hoofsies your mummah gave you. But what does daddeh mean? Get milkies with him? Does he mean…he wants to take you out of the poopie pile? You knew daddeh would save you one day!
“Babbeh wan! Wuv daddeh! Wan miwkies! Nu poopies! Peep!”
“Otay, babbeh. Dun fo’git, nu woud noisies! Ow ewse daddeh bwing babbeh back wif nu miwkies!”
The very thought of no milkies makes you huu-huu a little. Huh, you’ve never huu-huued before. It feels weird, making noises different from chirps or peeps…but at least this way, your daddeh seems to understand you better. And, like he said, it means you’re smart now! You like being smarty!
“Huuhuu! Wan miwkies! Chirp! Miwkies! Wan miwkies!”
“Shhh! Daddeh gib babbeh upsies naow.”
You try your best to stay silent as your daddeh picks you up in his mouthie by the scruff of your neck, gagging a bit at the taste of poopies all over you, but he powers on for your sake. He waddles over to the nestie hole, and your tiny heart begins to race with excitement. You never thought you’d be entering this unknown realm. You almost let out some scaredy-poopies from the anticipation, but somehow you manage to resist. Then, finally, your daddeh quietly steps into the hole, with you at the forefront of it all.
Your mummah is laying there on her side, see-places closed, with three weird little fluffy blobs curled up around her, all in a fluffpile. Wait…are those other babbehs? You heard chirping the other bright-time when mummah came out, and though you didn’t care much about it at the time, you wonder if these babbehs are what you heard.
Then, their scents reach your nose, and you know immediately. These are your brothers and sister! You didn’t even know you had any siblings! Your see-places well up with tears again, your heart filled with a deep, forlorn longing to be playing with them, to be snuggled up with them in that soft, warm fluffpile right now.
“Huu…bwuddas, sissie…babbeh wuv..”
Your daddeh freezes in place, sharply inhaling through his nose. You don’t know why he stopped, but then you remember. He told you not to be loud! Oh no! You stick a hoofsie in your mouthie, only to nearly gag on your own poopie taste. But somehow, miraculously, you don’t make another sound, and your mummah and siblings stay asleep.
After awhile of being still, your daddeh creeps forwards again, inching you closer and closer to two weird bags between your mummah’s back leggies. Instinctually, though, you know right away what those are. Those are where milkies come from! You can barely hold your excitement as your daddeh hovers you right next to one. You open your mouthie, latch onto one of mummah’s teats, and immediately start sucking.
Pure bliss floods your tiny mind as mummah’s milkies wash over your tongue and down your throat. This…this is amazing. This is soooo much better than daddeh spitting the milkies out into you! You can hardly contain yourself, with the feelings of warmth, of safety flowing through you right now, but you know you have to try your best to be quiet. You take long, starved drags of her teat, drinking the most milkies you’ve ever drank in your entire short life.
As soon as you reach your good hoofsie up to start kneading the milkie-place to help get the milkies out, though, your daddeh suddenly pulls you away! What? Dummy daddeh, you weren’t anywhere close to being done! Then, unintentionally, your tummy starts to churn…
Burp
“Mmnn…wha? Spechuw…spechuw fwiend? Wai…wai wakies?”
Mummah? Mummah is waking up? Oh no! You’re not in the poopie pile, so she won’t love you! Your tummy tenses up, and several scardey-poopies slide right out of you and splat onto the floor! No! Dummeh poopie-place, don’t do that! You wiggle around in fear, but your daddeh doesn’t let go. Instead, he bolts for the entrance, sets you down on the ground just outside, then turns around to face mummah.
“S-sowwy spechuw fwiend! Cwiff…uh…Cwiff uh…Cwiff make bad poopies! Suuu sowwy! Nu mean tu! Huuhuuuu!”
“Dummeh spechuw fwiend! Mummah nu wan cwean Cwiff poopies! Mummah cweans babbeh poopies, nu Cwiff’s! Cwiff cweans Cwiff’s poopies, naow! Nu smeww pwetty, huuhuu! Mummah nu wike!”
“O-otay, spechuw fwiend. Huuhuu, Cwiff su sowwy…”
You hear your siblings waking up as well, chirping and peeping in distress at the bad smells you made. You feel so bad. You didn’t mean to make your brothers and sister cry! You feel like the worst fluffy ever. Just a dummeh poopie who made dummeh bad poopies all over the nestie. Not that you really have a concept of bad poopies, though, given how you can just relieve yourself anytime you want in your pile.
Even with how bad you feel, though…there’s still a part of you that is deeply satisfied. Your tummy is full of mummah’s milkies, and mummah herself gave you them. You wish you could keep these milkies in you forever, to always love and cherish them.
But for now…you’re out of your poopie pile! If mummah finds out, she’ll give you owwies! You frantically start to crawl back to the pile, huu-huuing every time you drag your bruised body against the rough ground, until a fluffy picks you up again. Oh no! Did mummah find you? No, as it turns out, daddeh came back for you. He carries you back over to your poopie pile, gently setting you in.
“Chirp! Wuv daddeh! Wuv!”
To your surprise, your daddeh gently bops you on the head with a hoofsie! He…he just gave you a sorry-hoofsie!
“Bad babbeh! Cwiff say nu be woud, den babbeh be woud! Awmos’ get owwies fwom mummah! Den Cwiff hab tu num bad poopies! Nu taste pwetty! Dummeh poopie babbeh!”
Your entire world feels like it’s just been shattered. Your daddeh…your daddeh doesn’t love you anymore either? Your see-places grow wide, then they fill with tears, like they always end up doing. Your aching chest heaves, taking in big lungfuls of air before you unleash your crying.
“HUUHUUU! WUV DADDEH! AM BAD BABBEH! HUUHUUUU! CHIRP! HEAWT-HUWTIES! PEEP!”
Your see-places scrunch shut, and you stumble over your words, before simply regressing back to chirping. The milkies in your tummy feel sour now. What’s the point anymore? If daddeh doesn’t love you, then what fluffy ever would? You’re just a dummeh, poopie, no-good, worthless…
Then, you feel your daddeh give you huggies.
“Huuhuu…Cwiff sowwy…nu mean tu gib babbeh wowstest saddies an’ heawt-huwties…Cwiff wuv babbeh…su sowwy…huuhuu…”
“Chirp! Huu! Wuv! Wuv! Huggies! Huuhuu!”
You and your daddeh spend a forever there, hugging each other in the poopie pile, crying against one another. Maybe daddeh does still love you. Maybe things will still be okay after all. Eventually, you cry yourself to sleep, tummy full of milky goodness.