You are a micro fluffy named Tambourine. You live in a beautiful safe box on your daddeh’s desk with your brothers Piano, Cymbal, and Drum. You’ve all been here since you were only tiny babbehs. Your mummah used to be Daddeh’s favorite fluffy, but your wingie mummah tried to be a flying mummah and now you have no mummah.
But it’s okay, daddeh loves you all! He works so hard, and the look of joy and contentment on his face whenever he looks your way fills your heart with sunshine. Most of the day is spent playing fun games with your brothers. Games like Ball Chasies, or Huggy Tag, or the Gud Babbeh game where you all decide which babbehs are gud babbehs.
You always decide that all of you are good babbehs. That’s why it’s the funnest game.
But today there is no time for games. Today is a special day. Daddeh’s friend who lives somewhere out in the Big Scary Hall Place, told daddeh she had to move, and her new housie wouldn’t allow fluffies! So she’s forced to give up the Micro she’d adopted recently. Your daddeh is the best daddeh though, and he told her he’d give her beloved fluffy a good home.
That meant you and your bruddas were getting a new friend!
Daddeh had left that morning and reminded you all that he’d be returning with the new fluffy that afternoon. You and your brothers spent all day making the nesty box neat and clean, so when daddeh returned, you were as excited as could be.
“Hello, boys! Daddy’s home! I’ve got a new friend for you to meet!” Daddeh entered the room and gently placed a quivering gray fuzzball in your bed. You and your brothers approached cautiously, not wanting to startle the new arrival.
The terrified young Micro was hiding his eyes behind his soft velvety hooves. His weggie fluff is still only peach fuzz. His big doofy legs are too round and stubby, so he can’t fully hide his eyes. Luckily, he’s closed them tight so monsters can’t see him.
“Hewwo?” Piano spoke first. He’s always so brave. “Am nyu fwend? Hiya! Am Peeyannuh! Wub ou!” The quietly weeping babbeh started to open his eyes. Hooray! You got so excited you made tiny peepees! Drum was next. He was the foolhardy one and he bouncily waddled over to your new companion and gave him a big hug.
“Fwuffy namesie am Simbuh! Simbuh wub nyu tiny fwend!” The babbeh had stopped weeping and was now merely crying. “W…weawwy? Big scawy fwuffies…wub babbeh?”
Drum bounded forward next. “Das wite! Dwum awways wub ebbybuddy, an ou am da wittwest ebbybuddy dat Dwum ebba seed!” Drum got so happy that he did his stompy dance. When he gets worked up, sometimes he stomps around in a sort of opposite to the nervous tip tapping seen in some fluffies.
The babbeh looked at you. “N…nyu…nyu fwend fow babbeh?” Yay! The babbeh wants to be your friend! You were so worried he wouldn’t. You hadn’t had to make a new friend in many forevers, but now it’s okay!
“Tee hee! Am Tambaween! Babbeh wan wide on Tambaween back? Gu wook at aww fun pwaces babbeh get tu pway nao?” The babbeh was beaming. His previous trepidation was erased entirely, and he’d given over to his glee.
You kneeled down and allowed Piano and Drum to place Babbeh on your back. Cymbal had sat back on his haunches and started shouting to nobody in particular.
“Ebbybuddy wook out! Nyu fwend gettin’ upsies! Gunna wide bigges’ bwudda wound whowe ebbywhewe! Ebbybuddy stay outta da way!”
With Babbeh firmly on your back fluff, you began strutting around. You could feel cooing through your bones, Babbeh was so contended and happy. “Obah dewe am nummies piwe! Daddeh gib wotsa nummies, an gud fwuffies awways hab nuff nummies fow be happies an nu nebba hab tummeh owwies nawt nebba! Wawa obah dewe tuu, ou make gud sucky dwinkies fwom wittwe bubbwe on toob.” Babbeh was murmuring confirmation of his understanding as you explored the central area of the safebox. “Hewe aww da toysies, hab bwockies. Doze am pwetty fun. Baww awsu funsies, bu am bestest wif bwuddas. Bwockies weawwy fud fow be awone.”
The Babbeh gasped. “Nu! Awone? Nu wan be awone! Tuu scawy! Nu wike!” You giggled. “Siwwy babbeh, nu hafta be awone awone. Jus…ebby su offen nu wan pway wif nubuddy. Jus wan pway by sewf. Hab funsies onwy fow ou.” This calmed him as you showed him the litterbox.
“Dis am da poopy cownew. Pwease make gud poopies in dewe ow boxy housie nu smeww pwetty. Daddeh nu wike cweansies, su haftu teww daddeh buncha times tiww daddeh membew. He gud daddeh dow, wub fwuffies a wot.”
“Nee make good poopies. Gib downsies?” You made a big show out of kneeling by the small litterbox and letting him descend to make good poopies. He was tiny and happy and his heart was full of love.
“Babbeh dun wif poopies!”
…
“So he’s full grown?”
“Yeah. He’s a runt. I got him for cheap because they’re kinda feeble and can really only play with other micros. You’re sure your boys won’t play too rough?”
“Who, my little guys? Naaaah, they love him. By the time I washed the piss off my hand he’d stopped crying and was riding on top of my eldest.”
“Oh, Tambourine? The big purple one you showed me? He just looks darling. Will he be okay carrying…”
“What?”
“Nothing it’s just…I named him Wilbur but he hasn’t learned it yet. Still calls himself ‘babbeh’ all the time. I guess…call him what you like?”
“Hahaha, no. I’ll let the boys figure his name out. Hell, if he stays that small maybe the name’ll stick.”
