[BRD] Bunnery Bustle

If dredging her memories from way back before she was tossed into Burrowgatory, she could recall little, but she liked to think that at some point in her life she had been held by Lord Murmur himself, or maybe that was just one of the many nun buns that had to take care of her. Anna did consider it, actually, becoming a nun…but upon learning more about it, the job itself didn’t appeal to her, or to at least do it for what seemed like forever. 

Nonetheless, the second time she had to stay in the church for an extended period of time was when she was pregnant and decided to carry the baby rather than abort it, just to at least experience what it was like. She supposed she also had a little baby fever going on, wanting to see what the baby would look like (would it look like her?) and to see if she could remember anything from when she was a baby. The feelings passed quickly, however, especially with all of the pain and discomfort the whole process had, so not long after she had given birth, she decided it was not worth the trouble.

But she still felt gratitude to Lord Murmur and the church for raising her. She would still visit church every so often, give a few donations when she was feeling a tiniest bit magnanimous (though she had a feeling that the money was not going to the care of the babies, but rather something more heinous). For this particular year, after having a relatively chill Matentines, she thought it would be a nice change of pace to answer the call of the Bunnery. 

Upon entering the building, a few stories tall and with an open space and a garden, Anna was immediately greeted by plenty of bustling and jostling; wailing cries would sometimes pierce through the constant taps of hooves, both from nuns and baby buns alike. As she was guided further inside by one of the nuns, she could distinctly smell something like milk (soy or almond? Another type entirely?) It was an oddly comforting scent, though at one point the smell was replaced with something completely pungent, which brought her out of her musing almost immediately.

Babies were such a polarizing thing, she was reminded of all too quickly. She was eventually shown a room filled with them, thankfully not at the toddler stage just yet. Most were sleeping, but some were crawling around on their bellies, using their tiny nubbed arms and feet to get around. Pillows littered the floor rather than beds, and many nun buns were sitting amongst them, feeding the hungry babies with milk bottles. Trying to move as quietly as she could, she managed to find an empty spot free of tiny buns and a blue basket of recently warmed milk. At first, she wondered if she was just going to sit there and just watch the little baby buns wiggle around (they were cute, she had to admit. And also so small! Even in her bun form, she could imagine that they were almost like the size of plushies. They also came in so many different colors and patterns, with some already starting to show the faintest traces of particular traits even before their vices).

But she underestimated the hunger of these buns, despite being so tiny. After a few minutes of just sitting around, thinking that she was going to just relax and watch them so that they don’t accidentally do something stupid, a rather tiny bun (not the tiniest) started to cry for no reason. Waving its limbs around, another nun told Anna that they were likely hungry, so try giving them one of the bottles. Her feelings that she was out of her element only intensified as she reached out for the fragile little thing, carrying them in her arms while they were still fidgeting and sobbing. She then grabbed one of the bottles nearby with her free hand, hovering the nipple close to their mouth. She wondered if she had to push the thing just to get them to feed, but thankfully the bun immediately reached out and started to suck. The crying more or less stopped then, replaced instead by a relatively quiet feeding.

Maybe this was the moment she recalled vaguely, looking up to a much larger bun caring for her. In the future, when this bun would join Burrowgatory, would they remember anything while they were here? Would they remember her? That was, of course, asking too much, but it was wistful thinking, and also a realization on how simple the world must’ve been back then that everything becomes a hazy dream.

Her thoughts would be interrupted when another bun would erupt into tears, to which another nun would attend to them as soon as possible. Eventually her bun would somehow finish the whole bottle, to which she was instructed to gently rub and tap the bun’s back (holding them close to her shoulder) for them to let out some air. After that, she would set them back on one of the nearby pillows for them to rest. The little bun immediately curled up and began to sleep. However, that was not going to be the end of it, as the rest of the shift cycled between a comforting quiet and a loud scream. And so the feeding continued, with the little buns still looking rather adorable but the whole thing beginning to feel like a chore.

Once again, Anna felt like the whole thing reaffirmed her desire not to have any more babies, but at least she was able to experience it at least once, just to know what it was like. At least in her own way she helped future citizens of the Burrowgatory, though how awkward it would be to see them all grown up in a year’s time. Ah well, by then she felt that both she and these little buns would’ve all but forgotten these little moments.