Hello there folks! Thanks for being so patient- I really liked writing the Ballad of Stormy, but it was always sort of a rough first draft that I wrote hurriedly when I was sure no one would catch me writing about fluffies, haha, but now I’m glad I have a chance to write them the way I wanted to write them to begin with. It’s going to be a bit longer as a result, but I hope you’ll forgive me. I’ll also be releasing little side-drabbles and side-stories in between chapters, so it’s not just all the same thing from me. I’ll also be re-uploading the Trouble, Snowflake, and Brun stories at the right points in this one, too, but I want to give them the same attention I’m giving to this one. Anyway, thank y’all for reading. Hope you enjoy!
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Stormy cried for a long time, and when she was done, she was terribly thirsty. Out here under the Sorry Tree, Mommy couldn’t find her and give her water and nummies, and it had been a long day and night of repeatedly feeding her foals as they drank what little moisture she had. She placed her babbehs carefully on her back, the three remaining puffballs cuddling happily into her fluff. She sighed, and began to trot back to the tree, her little face matted with tears. She looked around, trying to find something to drink- and she found two options. When Mike had left her tied to the tree, he’d not bothered to pick up the laundry basket, the bottom caked in shit and piss from scared fluffies. the rain had washed most of the shit away, but the small amount of water that gathered in the small crook of the overturned basket still obviously smelled of piss and shit, and small brown flakes floated in it. The other option was the muddy water at the bottom of her nest- she’d dug mostly down instead of at an angle, and thus water gathered, creating a muddy but mostly-clean puddle. Stormy sniffed the water in the laundry basket and gagged, startling her babbehs into distressed chirps. “GUAG! Sowwy babbehs… wawa nu smeww pwetty.” She decided against it, instead plodding into her nest and stopping at the edge of the muddy puddle. She sniffed the water- it didn’t smell bad, but it looked icky. She thought about it, and then sighed, leaning down to sip the puddle.
It… didn’t taste as bad as she thought it would. It tasted a little like the grassy nummies outside the nest, and a sharp taste that Stormy kind of liked. She smiled, and drank happily- until some of the mud got in her mouth and the grit of the dirt caught in her teeth. “PTHA! PBTT! Gwoss! Dummeh wawa!” She sputtered and tried to wipe her tongue, but her hoofpads were also covered in mud. She backed up, spitting and wiped her tongue on the grass outside the burrow. She hated it under the Sorry Tree! She almost began to cry again, but she realized that meant she had to either drink the muddy water or the poopy water when she got thirsty again. She swallowed thickly, managing the hurculean effort of not throwing a fit. Her tummy rumbled, and she dutifully ate the grass that she hadn’t wiped her tongue off on. She missed her Mommy. Stormy wanted very much to go and find her- Mommy had no doubt chased away the scary man by now, and when Stormy came back with her good babbehs, they could all be happy again. She scratched at the rope around her neck- the smooth nylon rope nonetheless caught on her silky fur and pulled and yanked out tufts of her hair here and there, and it itched terribly. She retreated to her nest, carefully stepping around the puddle of water and shoving herself against the far wall of her burrow, a narrow ledge that was covered enough to be dry. She took her babbehs from her back and licked them clean, starting with the one that looked just like her- the Bestest Babbeh.
She loved all her babbehs, of course- she was a Good Mummah and the FluffTV had said that Good Mummahs love all their babbehs. But the Bestest Babbeh was the Bestest Babbeh, her heart loved him best- she cleaned his fur until it gleamed the same pretty storm-grey as hers, the little white dapples gleaming white despite their surrounding. While she was giving licky-cleanies to the Bestest Babbeh, the little white earthie had crawled over her side and latched onto her nipple, beginning to feed, his little hoofpads kneading into her. There was a sudden flash of anger inside of her- her frustrations at her situation finding the first outlet it could- and before she realized what she was doing, she had given the babbeh a bop on the nosie, causing him to detach with a startled peep. “Nu! Bad Babbeh! Bestest Babbeh gets tu dwink miwkies fiwst!” The tiny foal, not being old enough to understand, simply peeped unhappily, his tiny nubs covering his little nose. Stormy set her Bestest Babbeh, now clean, on a teat, where he latched and began to drink with gusto. The little earthy foal peeped pitifully, and Stormy immediately regretted booping him. Why had she done that? She picked him up and began to give him licky-cleanies. “Thewe thewe babbeh, mummah wuv yu…” she tried to explain herself, trying to justify the sudden guilt, “But babbeh has tu be gud and wet bestest babbeh dwink fiwst.” She hugged the little colt and then placed him back on the teat to feed. The little colt hesitated before latching, expecting another sudden pain and scolding from mummah- he hadn’t understood the scolding, but he understood that mummah was mad at him- but eventually he latched and drank, thirsty and hungry.
Her bestest babbeh detatched, and she coo’d at him, setting him in her fluff carefully before finally picking up her remaining foal- the little filly peeping as she hungrily latched onto a teat. “It am time fow namesies,” Stormy decided. She had wanted Mommy to name her babbehs, but she didn’t know how many forevers it would be before she could go and find Mommy, or before Mommy found her. She would name her babbehs for now, and then when she was home again, Mommy could rename them if she wanted. She gently stroked her bestest babbeh, who nuzzled contentedly into her fluff. “Yu namesie am… Cwowdy.” Cloudy wiggled happily as his name took, the Hasbio programming effective even this young. Stormy pet the little unicorn filly, the one that looked like her long-lost special friend, Snowball. “Yu namesie am Snowfwake!” Snowflake’s brain tingled as the programming took, but she was too busy eating to really celebrate. The little earthie colt detached from the nipple with a pop, finally sated. He tried to crawl back over to the warmth of Mummah’s fur, but his little nubs weren’t very strong yet and he slipped on a small bit of mud on Mummah and rolled off, chirping for help as he landed in the cold mud. Stormy sighed, picking up the chirping foal. “Yu namesie am Twoubwe.” Trouble wiggled, but mostly from discomfort rather than the joy of having a new name. She began to lick him clean reluctantly, only getting the majority of the mud off, not taking the time to get him shiny white. After most of the mud was off of him, she placed him into the warmth of her fur. She loved all her babbehs, it was okay. It was okay that she loved some of them a little more than others, because she still loved them all.
After she’d cared for her babbehs, she sat in the burrow and pondered. She had to figure out a way to escape the sorry rope and get back to Mommy. She was sure that the scary man had been the reason they were under the Sorry Tree, and while Mommy had been surprised by her babbehs, once she saw how beautiful they were she would understand and want to take lots of pictures with the magic square with them. And then she would give her and her babbehs lots of good nummies instead of the grassy nummies, and clean water instead of the gross smell-bad or muddy water. She thought as hard as she could, her little fluffy brain working overtime. She had bitten the rope, she had tried to run from it, had tried hiding from it, had tried to untie it… She sighed. she couldn’t come up with a solution. But… she looked at her babbehs. She had an idea- she would wait until her babbehs were big and strong, and then they could ALL bite the rope, and then she would be free! It would take many forevers, but she was a Good Mummah and knew she could do this. She still felt the worstest heart-hurties over the loss of her fourth babbeh, but she would just be even more careful with her babbehs, and it would all be okay.
The days passed by as Stormy and her foals settled into a routine. Rain came again during the week and washed away the last of the bad water in the laundry basket, as well as making more muddy water in the burrow. (Stormy had learned her lesson about the mud, though, and had dug slightly further back at an angle, so she wouldn’t have to sleep in the cold, wet mud.) Stormy slowly ater her way through the grass-nummies, mowing an ever widening circle under the Sorry-Tree. When her babbehs began to take their first shaky steps, she had shown them how to squat and make poopies and pee pees in the grass away from the burrow. They were still too little to make the journey themselves, but at least it would keep her fur clean. When they opened their eyes, it was Snowflake who opened her eyes first. They were bright sky-blue, and she blinked widely at the sunlight dappling down from the trees. Stormy gasped and gave Snowflake a kissie on the nose. “Hewwo! Hewwo wittwe babbeh!” Snowflake smiled as she took in her beautiful mummah for the first timel Her beautiful grey fur (matted, filthy with mud), her long white mane and tail (tangled), the little dapples of white that looked like little stormclouds (also sprinkled with mud)- and she loved her. She put her little nubby front legs up for a hug, and Snowflake obliged, hugging her close to her chest. She eagerly watched the rest of her babbehs as the little white unicorn nuzzled her and peeped happily. Cloudy, her bestest babbeh, opened his eyes next. Dazzling green, like hers- oh, he was perfect- and she immediately began to praise him, picking him up and giving him many kissies. (Snowflake was released to crawl onto her back or down to her teats without further thought.) When his peeping turned from happy to hungry, she placed him lovingly and tenderly on a teat. She watched Trouble next, sure he would also have pretty see-places.
Trouble opened his eyes- a rich, cocoa brown, sparkling with intelligence even this young. He looked at his mummah with wide-eyed admiration- this pretty mare was his mummah? He was so happy! Unlike his siblings, Trouble noticed something else about his mummah- the rope digging slightly into her neck, causing redness and irritation where the rope had rubbed away her pretty fluffies. When mummah picked him up, he hugged her with all the might he could summon in his tiny body, trying his hardest to fix her hurties. “Oh, Twoubwe… yu hav poopie see-places, but Mummah wuv yu anyway.” She gave him a little hug, and Trouble sighed happily. He loved his mummah so much. A week passed, and soon her foals passed the final hurdle of infanthood-speech. It was Cloudy who spoke first, his little arms hugging his Mummah’s fur after lickie-cleanies one day and saying “Wub yu, Mummah!”. Stormy let out a little gasp of pure, unadulterated love. “Mummah wuv yu, Cwowdy!” She hugged him close, cooing and giving him many kissies. Trouble was next, tapping his Mummah gently on her haunch as she hugged Cloudy, his little eyes shining with love. “Twoubwe wuv yu, Mummah! Can Twoubwe hav huggies and kissies tu?” Stormy let out a little gasp- two talkie babbehs! She scooped him up beside his brother, giving him a kiss on the forehead and nuzzling him. “Mummah wuv yu tu!” She was so happy, so very very happy- and then the final, third voice chimed in. “Mummah! Snowfwake wan kissies too! Wuv yu!” She scooped up her final babbehs, showering them all with kisses and praise. She really was a Good Mummah! All three of her babbehs were talkie babbehs! She loved them so much. She could do this- soon her babbehs would be big enough to bite through the rope.
Over time, she taught them the important things for when they were back in the saferoom- how to say please and thank you, how it’s bad to demand things, like skettis or toys. She taught them not to give sorry-hoofsies unless it was absolutely necessary, and how to be nice, loving fluffies for when they found Mommy. She told them all about her life before the Sorry-Tree. She told them about the FluffMart, and her saferoom. She told them about playing dress up and the magic quare, and about her nightlight, the FluffTV, and what toys were. Her foals sat with wide eyes, innocent little faces filled with wonder. It was Trouble who asked, breathlessly, “How time tiww safewoom, mummah?” Stormy’s eyes watered and her throat was thick as she thought about Mommy and the saferoom, but she kept a shaky smile on her face. “When yu babbehs am big nuff to bite thru wope, den we can gu find Mommy.” Trouble and Cloudy looked at each other and nodded, their little faces set in determination. They could do it. They could Save Mummah. They rushed at the rope where it lay on the grass, attacking it with their tiny useless mouths- they hadn’t quite grown in their adult teeth yet, and while chewing on the rope did slightly sooth the itch in their gums from their growing teeth, they didn’t make a dent on the smooth, well-made nylon camping rope. Stormy scooped them up, giving them a kiss. “Siwwy babbehs. Fank yu, but yu must get big an stwong fiwst.” Snowflake hadn’t attacked the rope- she sucked on her hoof, glad she didn’t have to right now- she wanted to think about the saferoom, and the FluffMart, and toys.
As the little family slept in their burrow one night, up on the road, a group of teenagers joy riding and enjoying the last days of summer were blasting their music and laughing, reveling in the joy of existance. The summer air was sweet, they were young, and the world lay ahead of them. One of them in the back, a young man named Tucker, who was currently working up the nerve to kiss his crush, who sat next to him, nervously tossed the remains of his fast food out the window. The box of chow mein and cup of ice blew away from the window, narrowly missing the small river and rolling along the embankment to just outside the circle of the Sorry Tree. The lid of the cup popped free, revealing ice at the bottom, slowly melting. A small gift before the storm to come. In the morning, when the sun began to creep over the horizon, Stormy woke and yawned, trying her best to stretch and itch without choking herself. Stormy had to sleep sitting up slightly, to avoid the rope digging in uncomfortably into her neck, causing her to choke- one of the roots that formed the “ceiling” of their little home caught the rope funny, causing it to go taut when she was in the burrow- it didn’t if she was outside, but she was too scared to sleep out in the dark of night. She left her babbehs snuggled in the fluffpile and went and made good poopies and pee pees. When she was done, she was about to return when she smelled it- something nummy was nearby! She sniffed around, finally finding the discarded fast food. Her tiny mind saw the noodles- “SKETTI!” she dashed forward, only for the rope to go taut, choking her. She landed heavily on her haunches, gagging. “Stoopit wope!” She turned her head at one angle, then another, trying to figure it out. Finally, she turned around, walking slowly backwards- and thus, allowing herself slightly more slack.
She nudged the box of chow mein with her back hoof, stopping. Stormy’s face scrunched up in concentration, and her little tongue stuck out as the gears of her brain whirred at their highest capacity. She slowly, carefully edged the box of noodles forward, little by little, until she managed to get it inside the little ring of mowed grass that showed where her little family lived. She’d also managed to scootch the cup close enough for her to grab with her teeth as she’d shuffled forward. Stormy turned and looked upon her well won prize- a box of half-eaten chow-mein and a cup of melted ice. It was a feast. She dug in happily, slurping up the tasty noodles, savouring the small bits of broccoli that remained. She lapped up the cold, clean water from the melted ice, and when she was done, she felt happy for the first time in a long time. She licked the sauce off the styrofoam, making sure she’d gotten all of the tasty nummies, and then trotted happily back to her nest, her belly quickly turning the chow mein into milk for her growing foals. “Wakey wakey, babbehs! Mummah mave bestest miwkies fow babbehs!”
The foals stirred awake, chirping sleepily and rubbing the sleep from their eyes with their little hooves. She lay on her side, getting comfortable and looking down to smile at her babbehs when she felt a foal latch on- Cloudy drank first, of course. Then, Trouble latched on to her other nipple. He was happily drinking her tasty milkies, and some small mean part of her reacted before she even knew what was happening, and she bopped Trouble on the nose, who let out a startled peep and detached, rubbing his nose with his hooves. “Owies! Huu huu! Why giv babbeh huwties?” Stormy’s nose crinkles, and her brain stopped- why did she give him hurties?- then it started again. “Yu hav tu be gud babbeh. Bestest babbeh gets bestest dwinkies fiwst, den yu sistew- den yu can dwink.” Trouble sniffled, rubbing his hurt nosie. He looked at his sister, who looked at him. Snowflake’s tummy let out a rumble, and Trouble gave her a little push towards Mummah’s remaining milkie-place. Cloudy, meanwhile, drank uneasily. The milkies were so especially tasty and good today, but he also felt yucky and bad inside his heart- he didn’t mind waiting for his brother and sister to eat first, really, it was just that Mummah always had fed him first, ever since his see-places had opened and he could remember. He stopped drinking before he was all the way full. Mummah picked him up and gave him kissies and licky-cleanies, and Trouble looked up at him before latching onto Mummah’s milkie-place.
As mummah’s warm tongue cleaned his fur, he thought very hard. Cloudy wasn’t very good at thinking- Trouble was much better at that, but Cloudy was confused. “Mummah, why Cwowdy hav tu dwink fiwsties, and Twoubwe dwink wast?” Mummah paused, but then smiled brightly at him. “Becuz yu hav tu gwow big an stwong to hewp Mummah bite fwew wope, an find Mommy and safewoom!” Cloudy thought about this very hard. His brain hurt, but he felt yucky still. “But mummah,” he said slowly, his brain working overtime, “Twowbwe and Snowfwake hav tu gwow stwong tu, wite?” Stormy’s nose scrunched. “Dey wiww. Yu hav tu be stwongest cuz yu am owdest.” Cloudy thought about that for a moment, but his head hurt very badly, and that sounded like a sound enough reason. He still felt yucky inside, but he nodded. “Otay, mummah. Wiww dwink fiwst and gwow big an stwong.” After they had all eaten and gotten licky-cleanies, they left the nest to greet the day.
It was, of course, Snowflake who found the cup first. She was a ‘splorin babbeh, and she trotted around the edge of the circle of fluffy-mown grass that showed the edges of what Mummah let them go to- it was too dangerous for little fluffies to leave without Mummah, she had explained. Still, Snowflake pushed her limits, always looking out for the long-lost sister that Stormy had told her about. (“Yu sistew am fiwst splorin babbeh, an splore 'way fwom Mummah! Yu hav tu gwow big and stwong su we can gu find hew!”) She let out an excited whinny, racing to where Trouble was sitting, watching a bird flying overhead, a small smile on his face. “Twoubwe, wook wat Snowfwake find!” She ran excitedly in circles until he followed, leading him over to the cup- the styrofoam had long since blown away. Trouble looked at it, sniffing. He picked it up, testing the weight of it- he could carry it easily, even at his small size. He set it back down and gave Snowflake a big hug. "Yu am bestest splorin’ babbeh, Snowfwake! Wets show it to Mummah!" She hugged him back happily, and raced back to her mummah, who was grazing on the grass nearby.
Stormy wished she still had more skettis, but when she had gone back, the box had been gone. The cup had been there, though, and she had slurped the last of the clean water from it. She looked up as her babbehs approached, Snowflake telling her happily about her discovery, while Trouble carried it carefully in his mouth. He set it down carefully as Snowflake told Mummah all about the special treasure. Mummah nodded, giving Snowflake a kissy for being such a good splorin’ babbeh. Trouble waited until Mummah looked at him to speak- he’d learned that sometimes mummah would give him sorry-hoofsies if he did the wrong thing at the wrong time. “Mummah, Twoubwe hav idea.” Mummah tilted her head to the side. “Wat am idea, babbeh?” Trouble pointed his little hoof down towards the small stream, a scant ten feet outside of the area Mummah was restricted to.
“Twouble take dis tu wawa, get wawa fow Mummah to dwink.” He’d noticed his mummah often sipping from the muddy water that gathered in the nest sometimes, or occasionally the laundry basket that had been left with them, a scant few sips of water once it had evaporated, rained, evaporated, and rained again. Mummah often cleared her throat, or choked, or tried to reach her neck out to the grassies that she hadn’t eaten yet, which contained small bits of life-saving moisture. When Snowflake had found the cup, he’d picked it up, and finding it easy to carry, had had the idea. Snowflake thought about it very hard, her nose scrunched. It was dangerous for her babbehs to leave the Sorry-Tree- while they weren’t restricted by the rope, she couldn’t protect them out there, where she couldn’t reach them. But she was also terribly thirsty… She sighed. “Otay, but pwease be su cawfuww, babbeh.” Snowflake instantly ran to follow Trouble out, but Stormy caught her, holding her close. “Nu, yu stay hewe wif Mummah. Am tu dangewous fow yu.” Snowflake protested, trying to struggle free, but she was trapped in her Mummah’s protective hold. Trouble picked up the cup, trotting nervously to the edge of the Sorry-Tree’s circle. He knew this was a good idea, but he was also scared- Mummah had made it very clear that outside the Sorry-Tree was dangerous. He nearly made scaredy poopies when he heard Mummah yell behind him and turned to see Cloudy running after him, fast enough to dodge his Mummah’s grasp. “Cwowdy come wif and hewp Twoubwe.”
Trouble smiled gratefully, and together they trotted away from the tree before Mummah could catch them- she was trying to shift a struggling Snowflake to her mouth and couldn’t chase them right away to catch Cloudy. They made their way down the embankment, enjoying the warm, plush grass under their hooves, the warm sunshine on their fur, and the fresh air. They reached the little stream quickly, and Trouble carefully set the cup down. “Otay, Cwowdy, wawa am dangewous, so we hav tu be cawefuww.” Cloudy nodded, trusting his brother completely. “Jus teww Cwowdy wat Cwowdy need tu du.” Trouble explained the plan, and then, cautiously, they began. Cloudy took hold of one side of the cup’s rim, and Trouble the other. They waddled awkwardly to the slowly moving shallows of the small stream, and together lowered their heads until the water began to flow into the cup. Trouble hauled it up before it filled completely, much to the confusion of Cloudy. He let go of the cup after they’d set it down. “Why nu fiww aww da way?” Trouble put a hoof on the cup to keep it from tipping over- “Wiww be tu heavy fow babbehs to cawwy if fuww. Gotta wait untiw big an stwong.” Cloudy thought for a moment, but then gave up and nodded, taking his hold of the cup to help carry it back. He trusted Trouble- mummah had told them about smarties and how they were bad, so Cloudy didn’t think Trouble was a smarty- but his think places worked better than Cloudy’s, and so Cloudy would always follow his lead.
They struggled on the return trip, the gentle slope made it much harder to carry the cup back, plus the awkward position meant they had to keep stopping to re-adjust their grips, but slowly, surely, they made it back, Stormy waiting anxiously at the edge of the circle, holding Snowflake so tightly the poor little filly was now struggling more out of discomfort than a desire to follow her brothers. But when Trouble and Cloudy sat the cup down in front of her, she gratefully drank the fresh water. When she was done, she scooped her boys up, releasing her daughter at last to grumpily complain about not being allowed to go, and about having “bad squeezey huggies”. She peppered them with kisses, hugs, and praise. “Yu am su cwevew! Gud babbehs! Gud gud babbehs! Mummah wuv yu so much!” Trouble hugged her back with all his might- he loved her, and wanted her to be happy, and the fact that he was finally receiving the much-needed love and praise that he craved soaked his brain in serotonin and dopamine, and he felt truly loved for the first time. He really would do anything for his Mummah. Before Cloudy had offered to join him, he had been ready to drag the cup down to the river alone, figure out how to fill it, and drag it back himself. He’d been very grateful that Cloudy had joined him, of course. It was much safer and easier with his help.
Cloudy hugged mummah, but still felt that odd, yucky feeling inside of him. He couldn’t figure out why, but something earlier hadn’t felt right. He understood making Snowflake stay behind- she was a splorin’ babbeh, but sometimes got over-eager and would trip and fall, which would be terrible near the river. But he remembered that she’d tried to stop him, too, and something about that confused him and made him feel icky. It was dangerous outside the circle, he knew that. Why was Mummah gonna let Trouble go alone? Still, they had done it, and Mummah was happy, and her getting wawa meant there would be good tasty nummies later. He sighed, his think-place hurting. He would ask later. They spent the rest of the day resting, Mummah making many good milkies and they drifted off to sleep quietly, their dreams soft and sated.
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As it turned out, Trouble had many good ideas. He spent a lot of his time watching the light dance down through the leaves of the Sorry-Tree, or the birds. He didn’t really have the same energy as his brother and sister did- he wasn’t starving, but he was certainly not getting as much milk as he needed, his growth stunted as a result. And so, while Cloudy and Snowflake chased each other (and the occasional butterfly) around, Trouble would sit and think. They had settled into a routine- drink milkies, take the cup down to the river, bring it back, make good poopies, drink milkies again. When the poopies had begun to pile up in one spot, attracting flies and stinking horribly, Trouble had had the idea of digging a small trench down and away from the tree, so the poopies would roll away and not pile up. It had taken a lot of work- Cloudy doing most of the digging, his healthy, well-nourished body making short work of the soft soil, and Snowflake kicking the dirt that piled up away outside the circle, which she did while whinnying happily. Trouble had tried to help, but he got tired so easily, and so he had resorted to pulling up the grass to make markings to show where Cloudy to dig. In short time, they’d made what was effectively a fluffy-toilet. When the rain came again, it washed the poopies into the trench and away, cleaning their little home and keeping their Sorry-Tree from smelling like poopies.
They were growing bigger and bigger by the day, and every day they tried to chew through the nylon rope holding their Mummah to the Sorry-Tree. Sadly, however, fluffy teeth aren’t particularly strong, and the nylon rope was well made, and so they hadn’t had any luck so far. Trouble was sitting and thinking very hard about that. He wanted nothing more in the world than to fix the rope for Mummah, because then they could go and find Mummah’s Mommy, and then Mummah would be happy at last. Aside from the occasional sorry-hoofing when he did something he wasn’t supposed to (he often didn’t understand Mummah’s rules, but tried to follow them, it was just that she didn’t tell most of them to him until after he’d broken them), Trouble considered himself happy. He had a pretty mummah, and a pretty sister, and a strong brother who all loved him very much. He had a nice nestie that smelled good (he liked it best after it rained, when the dirt smelled extra nice), he had nummies (he’d been the first to begin to eat grass, his body screaming for more nutrition)- he liked the stories about the saferoom, but he’d never experienced that before, and he was pleased with his small joys.
Cloudy chased Snowflake, who giggled and ran ever-faster, her white fur glimmering with iridescent blue and purple now and then when the light caught it, and he let her outrun him a little. Cloudy was big and strong at this point, and was sure he’d be able to bite through the meanie-rope soon, and then everything would be even better. That’s what Mummah said, anyway. Cloudy hadn’t been able to shake the yucky feeling for a while now. Something about the way Mummah treated him and Snowflake as opposed to Trouble made him feel bad, and he found himself worrying about it a lot. He wasn’t sure what exactly was making him feel yucky. He always felt a little twinge of heart-hurties whenever he saw Trouble get winded when they played, or how he waited quietly and patiently for Cloudy and Snowflake to drink their fill before he would drink the last dregs of mummah’s milkies. He’d started eating grassy nummies, his weak teeth struggling, but hunger driving him, and while Mummah had praised Trouble for being the first one of them to eat grassy-nummies, something about it made Cloudy feel sad. He made a promise inside of him to keep an eye out for his brother- and that made the yucky feeling feel a little better.
Snowflake’s legs were so fast! She zoomed around and around and around the circle of the tree, Cloudy a short ways behind her as she ran and giggled wildly, breathless and giddy. She’d been having Ideas, like Trouble did sometimes. She wasn’t ready for it yet- she wasn’t as smart as Trouble, but she knew she was smarter than Cloudy- she knew her plan had to be perfect to work. She was planning on leaving the circle- not to just go down to the stream, but to go and find her long-lost sister! She was certain that she was out there, maybe among the trees that were grouped together, or back towards the buildings that could be seen in the distance. Maybe she’d find her, and then she’d bring her back, and Mummah would be so happy! Snowflake was a splorin’ babbeh, and she’d splored every last inch of their little home, and Mummah refused to let her leave the circle. It wasn’t fair- Trouble and Cloudy got to go to the stream every day to get water, but Mummah always got big-scaredies whenever Snowflake wasn’t immediately in her sight, or at least in earshot. She’d cry horribly and beg Snowflake not to leave the circle so pitifully that Snowflake had realized that she’d have to wait, and then sneak away. It’d scare Mummah for a little bit, but then she’d be happy when Snowflake returned with her sister- and maybe she’d even find Mummah’s Mommy out there, and bring her back to save Mummah!
She collapsed in a giggling, breathless heap as Cloudy finally tagged her, rolling in the grass. She was so smart- this was the best plan ever.
