It was warm.

Nestled in the grass was a tiny pink puffling, gently cooing to her mother as she nursed, burying her face in her mother's soft fur. The tiny pink creature was much smaller than the other pufflings curled up around her.

She was barely hours old. Her eyes still sealed shut, the world around her being absorbed through her other senses. She could feel her siblings wiggling about, all wanting a comfortable spot to nurse, squeaking softly when they were pushed out of the way.

She was one of 5, the litter being born to a first-time mother within a peaceful town park, beneath the old oak tree. Her mother had settled down with a small nest, lined with her soft fur, lying with her pufflings, keeping them warm and nourished on the otherwise chilly night. It was quiet...

Peaceful.

The soft sounds of tiny squeaks filled the air, accompanied by the steady beat of her mother's heart, and her rhythmic breathing. The feeling of soft fur nestling the tiny creature in with her siblings, curled up to their mother for warmth.

A perfect start to life.

...

Something was wrong.

Her mother's heart rate quickened, her body tensing.

There were noises, yet not caused by the new family.

...

Footsteps.

Whispers.

Metal clanking.

...

Her mother grew frantic, pushing her children deeper into the brush, trying to keep them hidden. Protecting them, trying to keep them safe. She picked them up in her mouth, floating them into the bushes and hiding them beneath leaves.

The little pink one did not understand.

Yet it would be okay, right? Perhaps it was just a stray cat, or a rabbit that had frightened her mother. They would be safe.

Right?

As she felt herself being lifted by her mother, the tiny pink creature began to relax.

They would be ok.

They would stay together.

They would-

BANG!

Her mother screamed out and dropped the tiny child to the ground. A slick, warm substance began to drip onto the puffling's fur.

Although she did not recognize the metallic scent, she knew it was a bad sign. Her mother was crying out, desperately trying to push the tiny ball of fur into safety.

BANG!

The pink one felt more of that awful liquid splatter across her body. Her mother had stopped pushing her forward.

The warmth was gone.

...

"Ey, lookie what we got 'ere!"

"Nice, a pelt like this will sell for thousands! And those pufflin's are just an extra bonus!"

Cries filled the air as her siblings were lifted from their hiding spot. They wailed out, yet were silenced as they were tossed into a cloth bag.

Her mother had disappeared, the only remnant was that horrible substance pooling into the grass

"What about this'n?"

She cried out, as she felt herself being lifted from the ground. The hand was rough and uncaring, squeezing the pink creature past comfort.

"That thing? It's a runt...ain't worth it's weight in shit. Leave it there, some coyote or somethin' 'ill get it."

She felt herself fall to the earth, the hard ground smashing against her tiny body.

The footsteps faded.

She was alone.

The warmth was gone.

~~~

"Yeah, Mom, I know, I'm doing fine...really- Ok, love you, gotta go."
Fries sighed out as he flicked his phone close, stuffing it into his box for the time being. He was just a teen, living on his own for the first time in his life.

He liked it, he was always more of a loner.

As the box of potatoes walked back from his day job, he decided to take a small detour through the local park. It was always peaceful there, a nice spot to sit and clear his head.

Yet something was off today.

As Fries approached the old oak, he felt a strange feeling within himself...as if something was trying to signal to him. He looked toward the tree, seemingly compelled to step closer. What was that rainbow fluid in the grass? Why did he smell blood? Was that-

Fries stopped dead in his tracks, looking straight at a tiny clump of pink fur buried in the grass.

Was it moving?

As Fries approached, he gently reached out, touching the tiny object. It barely responded to his touch.

It was so cold.

The box of fries gently picked up the tiny creature, holding it in his hands.

A tiny pink puffling, not more than a day old. It's eyes were still sealed off to the world.

"Holy shit-" Fries didn't know what to do. The tiny puffling in his hand was barely breathing, shivering lightly and weakly opening its mouth. He couldn't leave it, hell, it was about to drop dead in his hands! But he had no clue how to help the poor thing. If he could, that is.

Fries held the tiny creature close, as he turned back toward the path. He was going to try his hardest and give this poor thing a chance.

Or at least, a dignified death.

~~~Author's Notes~~~

Well- that was something!

This is my first actual serious fic here in years, hope you guys liked it. It's a bit janky, sorry about that. I'm not a great author, but I really wanna get my AU out there.

Anyway, I hope to continue this out.

Don't worry, I'm sure she'll be ok :).

-Fire