.: Bunnery Bustle Bunnery Bustle :.

It had been quite the morning.

The Bunnery had been a bustle of activity with influx of bun kitlings, wheeks and squeaks and cries filling the air as volunteers and devoted alike were hustling from one place to another, arms laden with blanketed bundles of bunlings. Does this one need fed? That one needs a good cuddle, and that one wishes to play.... these three are hungry! Does that one have a cough? Oh dear. Mercy's name called out periodically by overwhelmed volunteers, seeking advice, aid, something. Please. They're so small, and fragile, and the nervousness amongst some of them was palpitable in the air.

It was almost too much for Tzillah, the loudness, the hustling, the bustling.... The ear plugs helped muffle the worst of it, dulling it down to a more tolerable din of activity, and the flowing cloth of the wimple upon her head helped further shield her from the sound. She'd been silent in her vigil over the little ones; a quiet comfort cloaked in the soft black and white cloth of her habit. Gentle headstrokes, a warm embrace to those in need. She was here to softly soothe, to see to their needs. They were still so small, so new... it was the least she could do to help welcome them to the world. And for the most part, it had been smooth sailing for her. A quick moment to assess what the kit needed, and soon they were back to their warm contentment in their soft blankets.

Except for one.

The poor little dear had been bounced around volunteers, squeaks and cries of discontent unrelenting. No arms could offer comfort, no song soothed their sorrow. They didn't want food, nor did changing blankets work. No amount of bouncing or pacing seemed to comfort them. But there was no fever, no sign of illness. Nothing the volunteers could discern, concern rising. The poor thing, poor little dear, maybe Mercy would know?  

The shade of the Bunnery made her way over, arms quietly outstretched for the sobbing bundle. Gently she gathered the little bun close, tiny cloven paws smoothing the soft tan fur that ruffled the top of their head. A soft shushing is offered as she swayed, glowing eyes looking down at the sad little bun burrito in her arms. She offered no words, just... observed, her gentle dotings kept light as she gently stroked the fur between their eyes. Shh, there there. She knows, she knows. It was scary, being born and suddenly being thrust into a new place. Where everything was bright and loud and just so much... She knows.

She knows.

The realization hits her like a brick when it finally hits her, and her feet start to move, carrying the pair off. Of course, it was obvious... They'd been used to the quiet. The dark. The warmth... and it was far too loud here. Far too loud, even for her. So of course it could be too loud, too bright for the little one. Quietly, she moves to shuffle them away from the bustle of the other volunteers and bunlings, leaving the laughs and cries, soothings and songs behind them. Quietly, she slipped the pair just outside, the door closing behind her, muffling the sound as the latch clicked into place as they stepped into Burrowgatory's gentle night, the lights having only just started to flicker and fade. Quietly, she moved away, to the cradle of bushes beneath the window so they still had light. But dimmed, filtered through the leaves as she sat down, arms gently as she slowly rocked the little one, silently hoping this would help.

Relief crosses her face...or it would, if Tzillah's face showed much emotion. But it read in her body language, the tension releasing from her shoulders as the cries subsided to whimpers, then to soft breaths as the tawny bunling in her arms calmed, snuggling into the depths of their soft fleecey blankey. It was now, and only now, that she dared the vocalize, a soft hum picking up as she began to offer a quiet lullabye to her tiny charge. Shh, shh, it's okay now. She's got you, and she understands. She too finds the world to be a bit too much sometimes; too loud. Too bright. And while she knew how to handle it, how to cope, her tiny little friend here didn't. They were still so small, so new...there was so much for them to learn. But it would be okay, she was confident of that. They would have support, she was sure. And they would learn, and grow...

The gentle light from the window filtered across the pair in pink dapplings through the bushes, the little one's breathing slowing as slumber drew them into it's embrace. Tzillah kept it up, her gentle humming, as she leaned back into the soft leafy boughs, her mind already drifting. A nice, thick hat would help...something to tuck their little ears into to help muffle the world. Maybe tighter swaddling, or a weighted blanket to help them feel more secure?  She knew she ought to head back inside, to help with the other succubun kitlings, but...for now? This little one needed the quiet, the rest... it had been a long, hard day for them. And for her; the momentary quiet was a well needed respite. They could return later, to the hustle and the bustle...once more had drifted to sleeps embrace.

But for now, the little one needed rest. The blanket was tucked around them tighter, cocooning them in warmth and safety.