childhood memories - basil

“Come now, little one,” said Murmur with a slanted smile, unable to help the grin that tugged so persistently at the corners of his lips that his jaw ached. Even though the little bun currently sticking her tongue out at him was a complete terror, he found her terribly cute; as terribly cute as how terribly difficult she was to raise.

Well, it wasn’t as if Murmur never raised a problematic baby bun. Such was the nature of these adorably demonic little creatures. The inherent fact that they were as feisty and troublesome as they were is what Murmur liked about them.

“No! You don’t even know what you—what you did, Murmur!” The bun said, stuttering over her words, as she was still a very young age. “So I’m not gonna talk to you anymore.”

“Oh, is that so?” Murmur humored her, putting a hand to his chin.

The little bun stomping her tiny, pudgy legs at him, so hard in fact that they somehow carried the strength to indent into the grass of the field they were in, was called Basil. Her downy fur was a dark, dark blue; so dark that it could almost be called black, but the cutest attribute Murmur thought she had was the neon teal accents patterned all over her. 

The color between her large, fluffy ears was the most adorable. Even as she completely misbehaved, he couldn’t be mad at her.

“Yes. That is so,” Basil told him, all matter-of-fact like she thought she was so mature. 

“Then can you tell me what I did, Basil?” Murmur asked, still placating her. 

“Uh-huh. ‘Cause you’re dumb,” Basil said with a sneer that would be cruel if she wasn’t so small and precious.

“Ohhh, okay,” Murmur all but agreed with her with a nod.

Basil had always been like this. Murmur remembered the first few weeks of raising her after she’d arrived to him from the Bunnery. Even before she could speak, she’d nip at the tails and ears of other buns if they tried to play with her toys with her gummy mouth, and it got worse the more Murmur taught her her first words.

Her first word—it had been “more”, in a demand that Murmur give her more toys than she already had.

Truth be told, Murmur couldn’t imagine a more fitting first word for Basil, even if it didn’t encourage good behavior. Her personality was far larger than what her baby body could encapsulate.

Basil glared at Murmur, her large ears pressed close to her roly-poly body.

“You took away my toy,” Basil said. If she were any of the other babies Murmur was raising her with, they might’ve cried or thrown an outright fit, but Basil was going about it like it was business. “Even though it’s mine.”

“You hit one of the other children with it!” Murmur exclaimed kindly. “Is that good bun behavior, Basil?”

“I don’t care what’s good bun behavior. Also, they’re stupid just like you, Murmur.”

Murmur let out a light sigh, putting his hands on his large knees.

“Alright then,” he said before scooping Basil up into one of his hands. 

Basil was still so little that she fit perfectly in his palm, though that didn’t stop her from squirming and making small, agitated sounds as she tried to get away from him.

“I want my toy!” Basil squealed, but even if she whined and acted high and mighty, she was still just a little bun, and Murmur could control her the way he did with all other little baby buns.

With Murmur gently rubbing his fingers against her floppy ears, at the place where the color faded into that brilliant teal he loved so much, she quieted down with an unwitting purr. As if a magic spell had been cast on her, she instantly began to fall asleep in his grasp, her eyes closing before jolting open in one act of rebellion.

Murmur rubbed a bit more persistently, making sure to give her particularly comfy pets that even Basil couldn’t resist any longer. 

With a soft yawn, Basil fell asleep without another smart word.

“Such a handful,” Murmur said softly to her, yet his tone was nothing but fond. 

He sat back down in the field, cradling her in his arms. He’d get up in just a moment to check on the other babies after he enjoyed the view of a sweetly sleeping Basil.