#[[i've heard that tumblr is being a (not so) Functional Website again so i screencapped just in case

[biquinhoduck]

Send me “Don’t chase the rabbit” and your muse will be shown a random memory from my muse’s past.

@cacklingfools

"Cuim?”

It's a rare to spot coendous on the jungle floor, let alone a mother with porcupette in tow. Dropping acai berries where the child lay, she offers the small fruit to her little one, then gently munches on one herself. He’s hungry, too, but he eyes the mother’s quills in apprehension – shouldn’t she be back in the canopy, where it’s safe in the shade?

When he doesn’t take them, she nudges the fruit closer with her prehensile tail  – which, oddly enough, wasn’t quilled at all.

“Cuimimuim?”

His shirt is still ragged from the crash and his shoes are long gone. At three years old, he’d hope that someone would come by now.

A sigh as he swipes the berries off the floor, then a squeaked sob.

“Cuim, c-cuim...”

She bows her head, quills lowering on her back, and lets the boy safely touch them with a free hand. As a mother, she knew his grief all too well.