Mummah’s ordeal

differential_Sloth, October 13, 2018; 13:11 / FB 52052
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Mummah’s ordeal

By differential_Sloth

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'Cum back speciaw-fwend! Pwease cum back! Nu weave Daddeh aww awone! Daddeh am sowwie! AM SOWWIE!'

‘Nuuu! Nu Daddeh! Nu wan Daddeh! Bestest babbeh nu wan!!’

Every part of you wants to stop and give your bestest baby huggies! But you can’t; you have to get away from the monster housie, and him!! ‘Keep guin babbehs!' Your other babies don't argue, even though they have to run through the cold fluff. They want to get away from the monster housie and their monster Daddeh as much as you.

‘Mummah!! Mummah sabe bestest babbeh!!’ You have to get him and your other babies to a safe nestie, far away from your monster Special friend no more and anything else that might hurt them. That alone keeps you going, even when your leggies get cold hurties and the cold fluff melts to cold water in your fluff. You lead your babies through the forest for a long time; even though they keep up you know they’ve got worse leggie hurties than you do. You use your hear places hard; you can’t hear your Special friend no more, so you’ve probably gone far enough.

‘Otay babbehs,’ you tell them. ‘We wook fow nestie!’ You slow down and look for a good nestie, but it’s hard with all the cold fluff everywhere; it hides most of the good spots, and ruins other ones. ‘Nu wowwies bestest babbeh,’ you say, ‘nu be scawdies, Mummah an oda babbehs fin nestie.’

‘Uuuhuhuhuuu owwies! Wowstest huwties!!’ He cries. ‘Wai Daddeh huwt bestest babbeh?! Huuhhuhuuu am bad babbeh!!’

‘Nu babbeh! Bestest babbeh am gud babbeh!!’ You can’t stand to hear him talk about himself like that! ‘Daddeh am dummeh munstah! He am bad! Bestest babbeh am gud-’

‘Mummah! Mummah!’ You turn your head and see your grey and orange baby run over. ‘Babbeh fin nestie!!’

You trot and look at what he found; it’s inside a big tree, but it looks a little small for all of you. But that doesn’t matter; you only have to stay here until the cold time is over. ‘Gud babbeh,’ you tell him, ‘Dis am gud nestie. Gu get bwuddas an sissies!’

‘Otay Mummah!' He goes to bring your other babies over, and you climb in to get a proper look. The good news is it's bigger than it looks from the outside, and it looks like it will stop the cold fluff falling in. Plus, there's only one way in or out so nothing can sneak in. Yes, this will do fine.

‘Otay bestest babbeh,’ you get down and carefully get him off your back. ‘Dis am nyu nestie. Bestest babbeh an oda babbehs an Mummah be safe hewe.’

‘Huuhuhuhuu. *Sniff* otay Mummah.’ He hasn’t stopped crying since you left the monster housie; it makes you hate your Special friend no more even more than you did before! If you ever see him again, you’ll give his special lumps stompies until they go away forever! Then you’ll bite his no-no stick off and-

‘Mummah! Babbehs am hewe nao!’

Your other babies distract you when they climb into the nestie; to have them together safe and sound makes you feel a little bit better. ‘Dat am gud babbehs’ you tell them. ‘Nao Mummah an babbehs am safe gain.’ Safer than if you were still in the forest, and a lot safer than you were in the monster housie!

‘Mummah?’ Your red and white filly asks.

‘Yes babbeh?’

‘Can babbehs hav nummies? Hav tummy huwties!’

‘Babbeh have tummeh huwties tuu!’ Your pointy baby adds.

‘Nee nummies!’

You didn’t think about that, you were too focused on getting them away from the monster housie and your Special friend no more. The more you think about it, you get hot prickly feels all over; you’ve been through the cold times before, and you know how hard it is to get enough nummies for yourself! Thinkie place pictures you never wanted to see again come back; you see your Mummah and Daddeh put their chirpy babies on the floor of the nestie. No matter how much to yell and beg, one by one they-

‘Mummah?’ You look down and see your pointy baby. ‘Mummah wat am wong? Wai wook scawdies?!’

You shake your head; you can’t think about that, not now! You have to get your babies through this! You have too. ‘Mummah, Mummah jus tinkin boud whewe get nummies babbeh.'

‘Whewe Mummah?’ He asks. You wish you knew.

‘Mummah, Mummah wook fow nummies when nu hav weggie huwties babbeh.’

‘Bud babbeh hav tummeh huwties nao!’ Your red and white baby cries

‘Babbeh nee nummies huhuu!!’

What are you supposed to do? You can’t look for nummies properly until you’ve fixed your leggie hurties, but you can’t let your babies hav tummy hurties like this! You use your thinkie place and come up with an idea; it’s not the best idea, but it’s better than nothing.

‘Babbehs,’ you tell them, ‘Mummah nu can wook fow nummies nao, bud Mummah wet yu hav miwkies gain.’ They look at you like you’re talking sillies; you said they couldn’t have milkies anymore a lot of bright-times ago.

‘Bud Mummah say babbehs tuu big fow miwkies!’ Your grey and orange baby says.

‘Dis am speciaw time’ you tell him. ‘Babbehs can hav wittwe miwkies su tummeh huwties am nu tuu big.’

‘O-otay.’ Two of your babies walk over and you let them get to your milkie places.

‘Onwy wittwe miwkies babbehs,' you remind them. They give you a few hurties because of their teethies, but you can deal with it. ‘Otay, nu dwink mowe miwkies babbehs.' They stop and help you pull your bestest baby over; he drinks with your grey and orange baby. After a while, you tell him to stop and let you green baby have some.

‘Wai du bwudda get hav mowe miwkies?’ Your pointy baby asks.

‘Bestest babbeh nee mowe miwkies fow fix owwies and huwties,’ you tell him. You let your bestest baby drink more, but you stop him before you think you’ll run out; you never know if you’ll need milkies later. ‘Otay babbehs, am sweepies time nao.' They get in a fluff pile and help your bestest baby get to the middle of it, close to you so you can give him huggies while you're sleepies. Hopefully, his owwies and hurties will be fixed when you wake up. ‘Nu wowwies babbehs,' you tell them, ‘ewyting am be otay; Mummah pwomise.'

#

‘*Sniff Sniff*' The smell wakes you up; is that-

‘Wai bwudda du poopies in fwuff piwe!!?!’

‘Nu wan poopies in pwetty fwuff!’

‘Nu smeww pwetty!!’

You look down and see a bunch of poopies behind your bestest baby; your huggies didn’t fix him.

‘Uuuhuhuuu bestest babbeh nu mean it!’ He cries. ‘Poopie pwace nu wisten nu mowe huuhuhuhuuu!’

You feel a lot of heart hurties, and even more maddies for your Special friend no more! That’s his fault!!

‘Icikes! Ickies!!’ His brothers and sissies run to the other side of the nestie.

‘Dummeh ickie bwudda!’ Your green filly yells. ‘Yu du bad poopies!’

‘Meanie babbeh stahp dat!’ You yell. ‘Bestest babbeh nu am bad! He hav dummeh poopie pwace!! Id nu his fauwt!’ Your other babies’ maddies go away, and they walk back to say sorries.

‘Babbeh am sowwies bwudda,' your grey and orange baby gives him huggies, and so does your red baby.

‘*Sniff* huu bestest babbeh am sowwies *Sob* nu mean du poopies huhuhu.’

Well, your babies don't’ hate each other at least, but you still have to deal with the poopies. ‘*Sigh* babbehs nee gu outside nestie fow wittwe time. Mummah fix dis.’ Your pointy baby and grey baby help carry your bestest baby out of the nestie, then you go back to clean up the poopies. ‘Huu ickie.’ This is always horrible.

Poopies cleaned up, you let the babies back into the nestie and tell them to stay inside while you go look for nummies. You also tell them if your bestest baby makes poopies again to pull him away and you’ll clean it up you’re back. You head out into the forest, and right away you’re reminded why the cold times are so bad.

There’s almost nothing out here that isn’t cold fluff and stuff you can’t num. You’ll never find flower nummies or berry nummies, or even fruit nummies out here. That leaves grassie and leafy nummies, and even they’re hard to find. You dig through the cod fluff to find any grassies that might be under them, but you don’t have any luck in any of the places you dig. Guess it’ll have to be leafie nummies. You walk to a bush with enough leaves on it and pull at one of the branches.

‘Ennneh, Nnnf!’ You pull as hard as you can, but the branch won’t come off. You dig your hoofies and pull more- *Snap* -and the branch snaps all of a sudden. You fall in the cold fluff and it gets all over you, but at least you have the branch. You shake off as much of the cold fluff as you can and drag the branch back to the nestie. There, you find out your bestest baby made more bad poopies, but not as much as last time.

You clean up the poopies while your babies num the leafie nummies off the branch; when you’re done you go to have some of the leafie nummies, only to find your babies have nummed all of them. ‘Babbehs, wai yu nu weave nummies fow Mummah?!’ They look at you all saddies.

‘Huu babbeh sowwies Mummah,’ you pointy baby says. ‘Tummeh huwties wewe tuu big huhuhuu.’ He and your other babies’ sad water makes your maddies go away; it’s not their fault. ‘*Sigh* dat am otay babbehs, Mummah no maddies.’ Well, looks like you’ll have to get more. ‘Wait hewe babbehs, Mummah be back soon.’

#

Each bright-time you do the same few things; clean up your bestest baby’s bad poopies, get another branch off the bushie, bring it back to the nestie and share it with your babies. Then you try to fix your bestest baby’s broken leggies and poopies place.

‘Am dis hewpin babbeh?' You hug him a different way to last time.

‘Nu! Stiww nu can feew weggies!’

‘How bout dis way?’ You try another hug, but it doesn't work either.’

‘Id nu wowkin huhuhuuu!’ Your bestest baby cries. ‘Huuhuhuu weggies nu wowkin! Wai Mummah nu fix babbeh? Nu wub babbeh nu mowe?!’

‘Nu babbeh! Mummah wub yu! Mummah twyin fix babbeh!’ You’ve tried to fix him since you found the nestie; you’ve given him every hug you can think off in every way you know how! But none of it worked, none. Every time you don’t fix your bestest baby, it gives you horrible heart hurties.

‘Huuhuhuhuuu wan weggies wowk gain huhuhu!’ he cries. ‘Babbeh wan wun an pway gain huhuuuu! Nu wan dummeh poopie pwace nu mowe!!!’

‘Pwease nu cwy babbeh, Mummah fin way fow fix weggies! Mummah pwomise!’ He doesn’t say anything, so you put him back in the nestie. ‘Babbeh,’ you say to your green baby, ‘yu giv bestest babbeh huggies; Mummah nee fin mowe nummies.’ You leave the nestie and walk out into the cold fluff. You’ve taken all the good branches from the first bushie, so you had to find a new one. You found a big one with lots of branches on it, but it’s further away. It’s hard work to get there, pull off enough branches and bring them back to the nestie; you can only do it one or two times each bright-time. You get to the big bushie and find a good branch. You grab it with your nummie place, and pull as hard-

‘Mummah!’

-you let go and turn around; what’s your pointy baby doing here?!

‘Mummah! Babbeh wan hewp Mummah get-’

‘Nu babbeh!!’ You yell. ‘Babbeh nee stay in nestie!!’

‘B-bud Mummah-’

‘Gu back to nestie babbeh, pwease!’ You feel sad water in your see places. ‘Am tuu scawies out hewe fow babbehs! Pwease, Mummah nu wan yu get huwties tuu!’

Your pointy baby looks at you with big saddies. ‘Huu, babbeh sowwies Mummah,’ he says, ‘babbeh jus wan-’

‘Nestie babbeh! Nao!!!' He turns around and stumbles through the cold fluff; you wonder if you should go with him, but there are tracks he can follow, and you have to get these nummies! You get back to work; this branch really doesn't want to come off, and it takes a long time for you to get it. ‘*Haf haf haf*' You need a rest before you can walk again. Once you're better, you grab the branch and drag it back to the nestie. It takes such a long time and makes you more sleepies than usual. After what seems like a forever you get back to the nestie, but your pointy baby isn't there!!

‘Babbeh? Whewe babbeh!?’ All your sleepies are gone. ‘Babbehs, whewe pointy babbeh gu!?’

‘He gu tu hewp yu Mummah!' Your red baby says. You feel horrible, horrible scardies all over!

‘Babbehs stay in nestie!!' You run back through the forest; where could he have gone?! You would have seen him on the way back if he was going the same way! You run all the way back to the bushie, turn around and run back! ‘Babbeh! Babbeh whewe am yu!?' You yell over and over but don't get an answer. Your scardies are worse than any you've had in your whole life! Your heart feels like it'll, TRACKS!! You see them in the cold fluff off to the side of yours; only baby hoofies make tracks like that!

‘Howd on babbeh!’ You run after the tracks. ‘Mummah cummin!! Mummah sabe babbeh!!’ Not long at all after you find your pointy baby trapped under cold fluff!!

‘H-h-he-hewp m-m-Mummah-ah!’ He says. ‘C-c-cowd f-ff-fwufff tw-twy n-num bab-babbeh!’

You run up and bat the cold fluff away. ‘MEANIE COWD FWUFF GU WAY!! GU WAY AN WEAVE BABBEH AWONE!!!’ With all the cold fluff gone you pick your pointy baby up and hold him close; he feels so cold and wet, how long has he been here!? ‘Id am otay babbeh, Mummah hewe nao! Mummah make cowdies gu way!’ You hug him into your chest fluff to warm him up, but you need to get him back to the nestie! ‘Howd on babbeh,’ you help him get onto you back. ‘Mummah get yu back to nestie!’

You trot through the forest back to the nestie; you desperately want to know why your pointy baby went off into the forest instead of following the tracks, but he tells you without having to ask. ‘B-babbeh twy f-fin fast w-way back tu nestie, bud den was u-undew bushie an cow-wd f-fwu-uff twy num babbeh!’

‘Nu wowwie babbeh, Mummah nu maddies! Mummah get yu back to nestie, make yu wawmies gain!’

By the time you get to the nestie, your leggies feel like they'll fall off, but you ignore the hurties and clamber inside. ‘Babbehs cum hewe!’ Your babies come over, even your bestest baby craws on his tummy. ‘Pointy babbeh nee wawmies! Mummah an babbehs make fwuff piwe!’ All of you huddle around to give him warmies and huggies to make his coldies go away.

‘M-Mummah?’ Babbeh n-nu feew gud.’

‘Id am otay babbeh,’ you tell him. ‘Id am otay, Mummah an oda babbehs make cowdies gu way!’

‘B-babbeh nu feew g-gud! S-sumtin wong!’ You get a horrible feel; why aren’t the huggies and warmies helping? ‘Bab-babbeh scawde! Hewp Mummah!’

‘Id am otay bwudda! Wed babbeh giv huggies an wawmies!’

‘Pwease be bettah Bwudda!’ Your bestest baby yells. ‘Nee be bettah fow hewp Mummah and bestest babbeh an oda babbehs!’

‘Babbeh pwease! Pwease be otay!’ You’re almost screaming. ‘Mummah an babbehs twyin!! Pwease be otay!’

‘Babbeh *haf-haf* babbeh scawdies. N-nu wan, nu wan gu, g-gu...’

You hug him closer, as close as you can!! ‘Nu babbeh! Nu gu fowewa sweepies!! Mummah giv mowe wawmies!!’ You tell all your warmies to go to him, to make his coldies go away and fix him! But the longer you hold him, the less you hear him talk, and the less you feel him move.

‘Nu gu fowewa sweepies bwudda!!’ Your green baby yells. ‘Babbeh nee bwudda! Pwease!!’

‘Bwudda! Bwudda stay wif famiwy!! Nu weave!!’

‘Nu gu way!! Nu gu way!! Pwease!!!’

All of you beg your pointy baby to get better, and give him huggies and warmies harder than anything ever before! It doesn’t work. You shake your head; you want your thinkie place to be wrong, for it to be playing a horrible horrible trick on you!! After a while though, you can’t ignore it any more; he’s not moving. ‘Huuhuhu pwease! Pwease nuuu!’ You let go of him and feel him move, but not the right way. ‘Pwease, pwease nuuu…’ You look down.

Your pointy baby’s still, too still. His nummie place is open, and so are his see places. But he’s not looking at anything. He’s not doing anything. ‘Babbeh? Babbeh pwease be wakies!’ You nudge him with your smelly place, then again. And again.

‘Bwudda?’ Your red baby comes over and hugs him. ‘W-wai Bwudda nu move? Wai nu make tawkies? Sissies nu wike dis game!’

‘Wai bwudda nu tawkies nu mowe?’ Your bestest baby says. ‘Wat am wong?’

‘Mummah? Mummah wai bwudda nu wakies nu mowe? Mummah wa am wong?!’ Your grey baby asks.

You can’t answer; all you can do is look at your pointy baby, your forever sleepies pointy baby. ‘Uuuuhuhuhuhu baaabeeehh!! Huuhuhuhuhu!!!’ It isn’t long until you’re all crying.

#

You wait until your other babies finally went to sleep before you take your pointy baby out of the nestie; it makes the heart hurties worse, but forever sleepies fluffies can’t stay in the same nestie as other fluffies. You walk through the cold fluff and look for a place for him to have his forever sleepies; you won’t leave him on the cold fluff! After a while you find a small bushie; it’s not much, but it's all you can do for him. You push through the bushie, put your pointy baby down, and give him one last hug.

‘Mummah su sowwies babbeh *sob* nu cud *sob* huhuhu make cowdies gu way huuhuuu *sniff* Mummah su sowwies babbeh!’

Part of you wants to stay here and hug him; he feels cold and stiff, but maybe if you hugged him long enough he’d get enough warmies to wake up again! But you can’t believe that; living out in the forest for so long taught you huggies can’t fix everything. They can’t fix him, and they’ll never fix your heart hurties. You get up and walk back to the nestie, leaving your pointy baby to take his forever sleepies.

#

‘Huuuhuhuhuuu miss bwudda huuhuhuuu! Miss weggies! Nu wan make bad poopies nu mowe huhuhuuu!’

All your bestest baby does is cry; you and your other babies give him all the huggies you can, but it doesn’t work. His poopie place and leggies are as broken as they ever were.

‘Pwease nu be saddies bwudda,’ your red baby walks up and gives him huggies. ‘Babbehs an Mummah fin way fow fix weggies an poopie pwace!’

‘Uuuuhuhuhuuuu dat nu twue!!’ He yells. ‘Weggies nu wowk nu mowe! Poopies pwace am dummeh! Babbeh am dummeh!!!’

‘Nu bwudda! Dat nu-’

‘Babbeh nu am bestest babbeh huhuhuuu!’ He cries. ‘Am dummeh! Dummeh babbehuhuhuuuu!’

You get heart hurties all over again because your bestest baby is so sad. Sad he's lost his brother, sad his leggies and poopie place don't work anymore, sad he has to live in a cold nestie with only leafy nummies. All because his Daddeh gave him bad special huggies! Because the monster human said he’d give all your babies to his monster fluffy to num. Because you both thought he was a nice human. Because you told your Special friend no more to find a human housie to live in until the cold times were over. Because you let him give you babies when the cold times were coming. Because you were a dummy.

It’s your fault.

#

It’s the dark-time, and all your babies are asleep. But you’ve stayed awake, to wait for the right time. You thought it would be hard to stay awake, but thinking about what you’re about to do made it easy. You look at your babies asleep in their fluff pile, giving each other huggies and warmies. Except for your bestest baby at the edge, where he has to sleep cause he always makes bad poopies. You catch yourself looking at them for a long time, and realise you’re trying to wait long enough so you don’t have to do this.

Slowly, you walk to the fluff pile, pick up your bestest baby and carry him to the entrance of the nestie before he can wake up. You put him on the floor and talk in his ear with little words; ‘Bestest babbeh nee be quiet.’

‘Huh? Wat Mummah-’

‘Mummah knu how tu make huwties gu way,' you tell him. ‘Bud nu can wake oda babbehs.' You lie down and help him get on your back. Once he's in place, you step out into the dark-time and the cold fluff.

‘Wai Mummah take babbeh oud of nestie in dawk-time?’ He asks you. ‘Nu wike cowdies and dawkies!’

‘Id am otay babbeh,’ you walk through the cold fluff to the spot you picked out. ‘Mummah gun make huwties an owwies gu way.’

‘O-otay Mummah.’

He's quiet for the rest of the trip; it isn't long, but it feels like three and two forevers. Finally, you stop in the middle of the cold fluff. You feel horrible tight heart hurties in your chest and the cold in your leggies, but you can’t stop now.

‘Babbeh,’

‘Yes Mummah?’

‘Babbeh, Mummah wub yu su much.’

‘B-babbeh wub yu tuu Mummah,’ he’s scared, you can hear it.

‘Babbeh, Mummah am sowwies.’

‘W-wat Mummah-

‘Id am Mummah’s fauwt yu hav huwties babbeh,’ you say, ‘Mummah made Daddeh fin dat hoomin housie. Mummah was dummeh.’

‘N-nu, dat nu wight,’ he says, ‘D-daddeh am bad fwu-’

‘Mummah was dummeh; Mummah wet Speciaw fwend put yu in tummeh when cowd times was cumin! Dis am aww Mummah’s fauwt *sob* Mummah su-’

‘Mummah pwease! Dis tuu many scawies!!’ He yells. ‘Nu wan scawies nu mowe! Mummah say was gun fix huwties! Mummah? Mummah wai nu tawkies? Babbeh nu wike!’

Yes, fix his hurties.

‘Babbeh, Mummah wub yu. Wub yu fowewa.’ Before he can talk, you shake your bestest baby off.

‘Screee!' He rolls off and lands on his tummy in the cold fluff. ‘Wai Mummah put babbeh in cowd fwuff?!' He tries to climb out with his good leggies. ‘Tuu cowdies! Babbeh nu wi-' You walk around the back of him and push him deep into the cold fluff. You push him so far in you almost can’t hear him.

Almost.

‘SCREEE! NUU MUMMAH!’

‘Id am otay babbeh, dis nu take wong time.’

‘T-T-TUUU C-COWDIES! MUMM-AH-AH!’

‘Nu be scawdies babbeh, Mummah hewe. Mummah make huwties an owwies gu way.’

‘C-c-cowd-dies. N-nuu w-wan. P-pw-wease...’

‘Mummah wub yu babbeh *sob* awways wub yu. M-Mummah wub babbeh babbeh wub Mummah, *sob* huwties gu way nao an uhuuuhuu make babbeh happies...’

You sing you Mummah song until you can’t feel him move under the cold fluff, but it takes you a long time to take you leggies away and dig it away. You prod your bestest baby a few times with your hoofie. It’s done.

‘*Sob* uuhuhuhuuu *sob* Mummah su sowwies bestest babbeh.' You lift him out of the cold fluff and carry him to the bushie where your pointy baby is; you put your bestest baby down and give him one last hug. At least they won't be alone. You go back to the nestie and curl around your other babies; finally, you fall asleep.

‘Mummah? Mummah!’

You open your see places and see your red baby.

‘Mummah! Babbehs nu can find bwudda! Mummah? Mummah wat am wong?’

How can you even try to explain? ‘*Sniff* huuhuhuuu *sob* uuuuhuhuhuuuu!’

#

Each bright-time seems colder than the last; have the cold times gotten worse? Or is it all the heart hurties and saddies? The babies seem to have them worst of all; even out here in the cold, they used to play huggie wrestle in the nestie. They’d laugh and play together despite it all, even your bestest baby! There are no games anymore, no laughs or happies; all your babies do is lie in the saddest fluff pile ever. They also do it to keep their warmies; it’s too cold to play.

It gives you the worstest heart hurties; this is no way for babies to grow up. Your Mummah and Daddeh nummed their chirpy babies, and even that seems better than what yours have to go through. This is your fault; you love them more than anything, they’re the only thing you can love anymore. But they should never have been born; you should never have had them. Why didn’t you and your Special friend wait?

You don’t feel maddies for him anymore; maybe you don’t love him, but what you wouldn’t give to have him back, if for nothing else to take turns bringing leafie nummies to the nestie. It gets harder every bright-time; it doesn’t take long to take all the good branches off a bush, and you have to go further and further from the nestie all the time. The walk is longer, it makes you colder, and it makes your tummy hurties worse.

They’re bad now, but you ignore them the best you can; your babies’ tummy hurties are more important than yours, and you’re the reason they’re in this mess after all. They get nummies first, then you. There’s never enough to make your tummy hurties go away, even though your babies try and leave as much as they can. The tummy hurties never go away, and they get a little worse each bright-time. Your sleepies don’t go away either, no matter how long you sleep, and you sleep any time you’re not out looking for nummies.

‘*Haf haf* Babbehs, Mummah *haf* hav nummies.' You pull the branch into the nestie, and your babies walk over. They have their share then let you have yours. You take what's left, then pull the branch out of the nestie and put it with the rest; there's nothing else you can do with them. Job done again, you settle down to sleep; your babies come over and huddle in a fluff pile with you. It gives you a few happies, but they're not enough to get rid of the heart hurties and the saddies, or the coldies.

#

‘*Haf, haf, haf*’

Every step hurts, and seems to take forever. The hurties and owwies from everything are worse than they’ve ever been. The more you walk, the worse you feel. How far from the nestie have you gone this time? How much further than this can you go when that bushie runs out? But you can’t think about that, not while you still need to get to the nestie.

It takes such a long time, but you finally make it back. You try to climb into the nestie-

‘oof’

-but you slip back into the cold fluff. You try again, but you can’t seem to do it this time!

‘Mummah!’ Your babies run over to help. Your Grey baby grabs the fluff on your neck with his nummie place, and his sissies get out and push you in from the outside. With their help, you manage to get the last bit into the nestie and pull the branch in. You settle into the routine, but something’s different this time; you don’t feel so good.

Your sleepies and hurties are bad, really bad, and different in a way that’s scary. ‘*Haf haf haf’* you can’t catch your breath, no matter how hard you try. You don’t know how, but all of a sudden it becomes clear; if you go to sleep, you won’t wake up. All the walking around the in cold fluff looking for nummies, all the time you’ve gone without properly fixing your tummy hurties; it was too much, and it’s given you hurties that can’t be fixed.

The next time you go to sleep, it will be forever.

You should be scared, you should fight it as hard as you can! But you can’t, you don’t have the strength. You’ll go forever sleepies soon, and you're too sleepies to care, at least about yourself. You look at your babies; they're big, maybe big enough to get nummies on their own. Well, they’ll have to now; soon they won’t have you to help them. You’ve done everything you can for them. Wait, maybe there’s one last thing you can do.

You see the old thinkie place picture of your Mummah and Daddeh numming your chirpy brothers and sissies. It gives you an idea; it’s horrible, and your babies won’t like it. But they won’t like you going forever sleepies either. ‘Babbehs, cum tu Mummah.’ They look up from the branch but don’t move. ‘Nao babbehs, Mummah nee say sumtin!’ They run over and sit close. You take a lot of deep breaths to make as many sleepies go away as you can; you’ve got one shot at this.

‘Babbehs, Mummah am sowwies,’ you see your red baby about to talk, but you keep going before she can. ‘Mummah nu feew gud, hav tuu many huwties an *haf* sweepies.’

‘W-wat Mummah mean?’ You can hear the scardies in your green baby’s voice.

‘Babbehs, Mummah am...’ You can barely say it. ‘When Mummah gu sweepies, Mummah nu gun wakies gain. Mummah am gun be fowewa sweepies.’

‘N-nu! NU MUMMAH!!’ Your red baby runs up and gives you huggies. ‘NU GU FOWEWA SWEEPIES MUMMAH! PWEASE!’

‘Babbeh...’

‘Grey babbeh giv huggies!’ He gives you huggies too. ‘Giv Mummah huggies su Mummah nu gu fowewa sweepies!’

‘Babbehs wisten...’

‘NU FOWEWA SWEEPIES MUMMAH! BABBEHS NEE MUMMAH!

‘Babbehs wisten tu Mummah NAO!!!’ They go quiet, but it’s a short while before you can talk again. ‘Babbehs nu can hewp Mummah nu mowe, bud Mummah stiww hewp babbehs.’ You take another breath. ‘Babbehs, when Mummah gu fowewa sweepies, yu nee num Mummah.’ The looks on their faces, they look like their Daddeh when the monster human told him-

‘NUUUU!’ your red baby screams. ‘BABBEH NU WAN NUM MUMMAH! NU WAN!!’

‘Mummah nu am nummies!!’ Your grey baby says. ‘Mummah am Mummah! Mummah am fow huggies an wub and songies!! Nu am nummies!!’

‘Babbehs pwease, dis am onwy way Mummah can hewp babbehs nao,' it's hard to talk. You don't know how much longer you can stay awake, but it can't be much longer. ‘Babbehs nee num Mummah, ow babbehs nu get tu end of cowd times. Nu gwow big an stwong...' They cry and scream and give you huggies to make you better. ‘Babbehs, pwease nu cwy nao,' you say. ‘Pwease. Mummah jus wan be in fwuff piwe wif yu.'

‘*Sob* O-otay Mummah *sob*,’ your red baby cuddles up close. ‘Babbeh be *sob* huhuhuuu be wif Mummah.’

Your feel your other babies cuddle close and make a fluffy pile with you. Even though they try as hard as they can, they can’t stop crying.

‘Id am otay babbehs,’ you tell them. ‘Mummah, Mummah wub yu. Pwomise be gud an gwow big an stwong.’

‘Babbehs pwomise Mummah!’ Your grey baby says. ‘Babbehs pwomise! Babbeh pwomise hewp Sissies!’

‘Huuhuhuhuuu babbeh pwomise Mummah *sob* pwomise!’

‘Gud babbehs,’ Right at the end, you can be happy about something. ‘Mummah awways wub yu. Mummah wub babbehs, babbehs wub… wub Mummah...’ Your see places close, and the last thing you see is a quick sleepy picture; your Special friend, your bestest baby and your pointy baby run and play in a bright, warm place full of grassies and pretty flowers. You run after them, and it’s the last thing you know before it all goes black.

####

‘Mummah? Mummah?’ You prod Mummah’s face with your hoofie.

‘Mummah, pwease be wakies gain huhuhu!’ Your red sissie cries. You prod a few more times, but it’s no use; she’s gone. Mummah is forever sleepies. You look at your sissie and your brother, lying on top of Mummah and crying harder than you’ve seen before. You want to cry too, but you can’t. You know what you have to do.

‘Babbeh am sowwies Mummah.' You give Mummah one last hug, then walk to her milkie places. You stare at them for a long time; can you really do this? Almost every part of you wants to make sickie waters, but one part of you remembers what Mummah said. Even if she's not here, you won't let her down. You can't let her down.

‘*Gulp*’ You step closer; Thinkie place pictures of all the times you drank milkies there with your brothers and sissie flash through your thinkie place; they seem like two and two forevers ago. You open your nummie place and-

‘Wat sissie duin?’

You look at your red sissie, then go back to-

‘Nuu!’ She knocks you over. ‘Nu num Mummah! Mummah nu am nummies!!’ She gives you sorry hoofies, and you try to fight back, but you’re both the same size. Then-

‘Stahp! Nu giv sowwie hoofies!’

-your brother rushes to break up the fight. He pulls your sissie away, which gives you the opening you need. You jump up and give her a few quick sorry hoofies that put her on her back. Before either her or your brother can do anything you pin your sissie down; ‘Yu stahp dummeh!’ You yell. ‘Dis am wat Mummah say babbehs nee du!!’

‘Bud babbeh nu wan num Mummah huhuhuuu!’

‘Den yu gu fowewa sweepies tuu!’ You tell her. ‘Babbeh nee num Mummah ow gu fowewa sweepies. Babbeh nu wan gu fowewa sweepies!!!’ You get off her and walk back to Mummah’s milkie place. Again, you open your nummie place and bite down. ‘Nnngh.’ You bite harder, shake your head side to side, step back and pull-

‘*Shrip*’

You fall back but keep your nummie place shut tight. You look back at Mummah's milkie place and see a part missing, the part in your nummie place. Every part of you wants to spit it out; behind you, your sissie cries and yells, begs you not to do it. Babbeh sorries Mummah. You chew the piece in your nummie place; it’s horrible! The way it tastes and feels, you want to be sick!! But don’t want to go forever sleepies even more

*Gulp, haf haf haf.*

You did it, you nummed a bit of Mummah like she told you to. But you’ve still got tummy hurties. You go back and tear off another piece of the milkie place, another piece of Mummah. While you stand there, you hear your brother walk up, lean down, and bite Mummah’s other milkie place.

#

‘Dat am wai hoomins am bad,’ your babies sit in front of you; they’ve got sad water in their see places and in the fluff under them, but they’ve stayed quiet the whole time. ‘Hoomins nu wike fwuffies; day meanies dat make fwuffies du bad tings. Day make Daddehs huwt dewe babbehs, an make Mummahs wive in cowd times; newa ewa gu tu dem!’ Your babies nod.

‘*Sniff* Babbehs undewstan Mummah,’ one of them says. ‘Babbeh newa tink hoomins am gud.’

‘*Sob* Babbeh nu wike hoomins huuhuhuuu! Hoomins huwt Mummah Mummah!’ His sissie cries.

‘Gud babbehs,’ You lean down and give them all huggies.

The rest of the cold times after Mummah went forever sleepies were hard, but you and your brother and sissie managed to get to the end of them. When the cold fluff went away you left the nestie for the last time, but you all went different ways; living in the nestie having to num Mummah did something. You couldn’t stand to be with each other afterwards.

You were alone in the forest for a long time; it was easy when all the different nummies came back, and you couldn’t believe this forest was the same cold and forever sleepies place it was in the cold times. One bright-time, you met a nice stallion who was out looking for nummies for his herd. He took you back to them, and the smarty decided you could stay. Not long after, the nice stallion became your Special friend, and it wasn’t much longer until you had your first babies.

‘Daddeh am back Speciaw fwend!’

You look and see your Special friend walk into the den; your babies run over to give him huggies, and after he’s done he comes over to hug you. ‘Fwuffy hav mowe nummies fow piwe Speciaw fwend.’

‘Dat am gud Speciaw fwend,' you say. ‘Famiwy gun hav pwenty of nummies fow cowd times.' You walk to the part of the den where you keep extra nummies for the cold times. The herd you found had been through a the cold times before, and know how to prepare You and your Special friend have spent a lot of time getting nummies for the next cold times; they're still a few whiles away, but that doesn't matter. Going through the cold times again gives you horrible scardies; you have lots of bad sleepie pictures about what happened last time, and what might happen in the next one. But you can’t stop them from coming, and this time at least you’ll be ready.