childhood memories

Tavish’s childhood memories are, like almost all succubuns, fuzzy and indistinct. He wishes that some faces were clearer, that voices could still be heard, but ultimately he is pleased enough with just knowing that he had been (and still is) very happy.

Some of his memories are small, a clear picture like a moment in the wisp of a memory that doesn’t quite form. He remembers that his baby blanket was a vibrant forest green once. It’s now a corner scrap that’s kept in a box, the vibrant colour now gone, but Tavish loves it all the same.

He thinks he remembers the first time he hopped into the sand box. Perhaps it wasn’t the first time, but he likes to think it was. Likes to think that the noise of pure excitement and the unavoidable urge to dig dig dig, all the way to the other side of hell, was all because it was the first time he had ever truly encountered sand.

He remembers not feeling great and someone, whose face he can’t picture and whose name was lost many moons ago, rocking him. He’s grateful to them, whoever they may be.

In almost every memory Tavish cherishes, the ones that seem like they happened only yesterday, there is one vivid face next to his own. A face that has followed him all through his life, through thick and thin. Even now in the present day, Diego, his litter mate and best friend, remained a large and consistent part of his life, now running a small farm together.

“Can I touch you?”
Tavish slowly stopped digging in the sandbox to look up at the other child, face scrunched up in confusion.
“Touch me?
“Thanks!” Diego said cheekily, hand moving to run his fingers through Tavish’s fur. He’d known it had been a question and not an allowance, but he honestly didn’t really care. Why look a gift horse in the mouth? “Oh Shit! You’re even softer than you look!”
Tavish couldn’t help but smile, “Murmur says that it’s Angora.” He didn’t really know what that exactly meant, but he guessed it meant extra soft.
“Cool.” Diego rubbed up against the wonderfully soft, ginger fur a few more times before flopping down next to Tavish in the sand.

It was a silly little memory, but Tavish was glad he remembered it in more detail than most because it had resulted in him and Diego being inseparable ever since. They had been (and still were, honestly) little trouble makers, never staying still for too long and causing Murmur to fondly roll his eyes at least a million times a day according to Diego, Tavish happily nodding in agreement. Definitely a million, no exaggeration what so ever.

When they hadn’t been causing chaos, they would most likely be found rolling in the sandbox. Their play fights often managed to look quite violent, but they never hurt each other. One of the other buns, (the memory too fuzzy to remember her name) had accused them of being able to read each other’s minds, something they had never considered before! It resulted in one of the worst moments of Tavish’s life. It turned out, unsurprisingly, that they could not in fact read each other's minds and thus Tavish had not known what Diego was about to do. 

Tavish truly wished from the bottom of his little black heart that he could forget the great Tavishty (travesty) haircut of 83. (They had no idea if it actually happened in 83, Tavish just liked the number truth be told.) 

Yes, Tavish had ended up with teeny tiny bangs that Diego had cut in with his pointy little teeth. After seeing the ginger fur on the floor, then running to look in a mirror, Tavish spent the night eating to ‘help mend his broken heart.’ Diego had thought Tavish might explode. He had always had a voracious appetite, even on his good days, but it turned out the bad days were worse.
Diego’s jaw hit the floor. He hadn’t meant to bite such a large piece of Tavish’s fringe away! Maybe he could straighten it up!? Just another few nibbles right?

Tavish opened his eyes, “What are you- ?” He was about to ask what was taking so long, but instead he found himself frozen. Tavish had noticed the fur on the floor and he stared at it horrified. Why would Diego do this? Glancing up he saw Diego looking at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read. “I only meant to take a little, Tav…”

He needed to see the damage, needed to see what in all of hell had happened.
Seeing it didn’t make it any better, but Murmur took pity on Tavish and straightened it out snipping carefully with steady, strong hands..

“I didn’t know you had eyes!” A litter mate gasped. Tavish flipped her off.