Microfluff Management: A CYOA by Thesaltt part 9
“Shashai!” You call out to the cowardly fluffy, who screams in response. “It otay! Gwanite hewe!”
Shashai slowly lifted her hooves up from her eyes and turned around to face you. Her breaths are quick and shallow, her eyes wide, her gaze never really meeting yours, but scanning every corner of the cave to make sure nothing else has come to get her. She doesn’t respond verbally to your calls.
“Shaishai, wuh happun?” You ask the young fluffy smeared with a mixture of poopies and booboo juice.
“Shaishai…Shaishai nu knu.” She finally responds after a long time. Her eyes finally focus on yours. “Shaishai stawted heawing scweams and cwunchie noisies. Shaishai wun into home. Hide in dah poopies. Munstahs don’t wike poopies.”
“Otay, but why eat poopies and fwuffies?” You ask, looking around the cave where the walls were made out of the same stuff you ate topside. “Nummies are in waww. Nummies aww ovew.”
She stares at you with a blank expression, her eyes still very wide. You don’t think she processed what you asked.
“Did Shaishai see munstahs?” You ask, moving past her dietary decisions.
“Nu. Onwy knu dat Shaishai needed to wun.” She replied as she slowly walked closer to you. It looks like she might be getting more comfortable with you.
“Dat’s otay.” You tell her, meeting her halfway to wrap your legging around her in a hug. “Shaishai safe now.”
“Whewe do fwuffies go now?” She asks, looking up at you with scared, pleading eyes.