The night was still, save for the gentle whisper of the cool mountain breeze. Stuffed into the lean-to, Claire slumbered peacefully, her massive form rising and falling with each breath. Nestled against her side, David was lost in dreams, blissfully unaware of the world around him.
But not everyone was asleep.
The Cuddlebugs, tasked with keeping watch, were growing restless. Their beady eyes scanned the darkened landscape, finding nothing but shadows and silence. One of the veterans, the unnaturally clever one, chittered softly to its companions. If Cuddlebugs could sigh, they would have done so collectively.
Boredom, it seemed, was a universal constant - even for nightmarish fuzzballs.
Unable to contain their energy any longer, the Cuddlebugs began to play. They scampered across Claire's scales, using the ridges of her armor as an impromptu obstacle course. Some of the more daring ones launched themselves from her head, gliding on outstretched limbs before landing in soft piles of fur and giggles.
The clever one, ever the innovator, started a game of tag. It tapped another Cuddlebug with its paw and took off scampering, leaving its bewildered companion to figure out the rules. Soon, the entire swarm was engaged in a frantic chase, their tiny bodies blurring as they darted to and fro.
One particularly enthusiastic Cuddlebug, in its haste to avoid being tagged, miscalculated its jump and found itself sliding down Claire's tail. It let out a high-pitched squeal of delight as it picked up speed, shooting off the end like a furry cannonball. The others watched in awe, and within moments, Claire's tail had become the world's most exciting slide.
As the night wore on, the Cuddlebugs found new ways to entertain themselves. They formed living pyramids, each one trying to climb higher than the last. They played hide-and-seek among the folds of David's wings, chittering almost silently as they peeked out from beneath the leathery membrane.
The clever one, inspired by David's attempts at writing, tried to teach its fellows how to draw. The results were... abstract, to say the least. Claire's scales were soon covered in what looked like the muddy doodles of a dozen caffeinated toddlers with access to finger paints.
Just as the Cuddlebugs were beginning to tire of their games, a new distraction appeared on the horizon. A cloud of large, moth-like insects drifted over the mountain peak, their wings glittering in the moonlight.
The reaction was instantaneous. The Cuddlebugs' eyes widened, their tiny mouths watering at the sight of so much potential food. The clever one let out a battle cry - a sound not unlike a squeaky toy being stepped on - and charged.
What followed was nothing short of a feeding frenzy. The Cuddlebugs swarmed the moth cloud, their usual adorable demeanor replaced by a piranha-like ferocity. They tore into the insects with gusto, showering the ground below with discarded wings and limbs.
The massacre continued until every Cuddlebug looked comically bloated, their tiny bellies distended and their movements sluggish. Yet, despite their best efforts, they had barely made a dent in the massive insect swarm.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
As the moths drifted away, seemingly unfazed by the loss of so many of their brethren, the Cuddlebugs surveyed the aftermath of their feast. The ground was carpeted with disembodied wings, covered in a fine, shimmering dust that caught the moonlight.
The clever Cuddlebug, its belly full but its mind ever-active, stared at the sea of sparkly wings. A thought began to form in its tiny brain, a spark of an idea that would have made David proud (or possibly terrified).
Sparkly, it thought. Boss like sparkly?
The Cuddlebug nodded to itself (something it saw the Boss do often), as if answering its own unspoken question. Of course Boss would like sparkly. And if Boss would like it, surely his pet lizard (for that was how the Cuddlebugs viewed Claire) would appreciate it too.
With a sense of purpose that would have put many humans to shame, the clever Cuddlebug began to gather mouthfuls of discarded wings. It waddled into the lean-to, its cheeks comically puffed out, and carefully deposited its glittery burden on David's head.
The other Cuddlebugs, still digesting their enormous meal, watched this strange behavior with curiosity. Not fully understanding the clever one's intentions but trusting its leadership, they soon joined in the effort.
A bizarre procession formed as Cuddlebug after Cuddlebug ferried sparkly wings into the lean-to. They moved with the solemn determination of workers building a monument, each one adding its contribution to the growing pile on David's head.
Hours passed, and still the Cuddlebugs worked. By the time the sky began to lighten with the first hints of dawn, David's entire head had vanished beneath a mountain of iridescent wings. He looked less like a bat-monster and more like a bat-monster being slowly devoured by a strange, shimmering cocoon.
As the sun peeked over the horizon, David began to stir. The Cuddlebugs froze, watching with bated breath as their master slowly regained consciousness.
David's first sensation was confusion. Something felt... off. He tried to open his eyes, only to find his vision obscured by a sea of shimmering colors.
"What the...?" he mumbled, his voice muffled by the layers of wings.
Slowly, realization dawned on him. He was covered in... something. Something light and fluttery and decidedly not supposed to be there.
"ACHOO!"
The sneeze erupted from David with explosive force. Wings flew everywhere, filling the air like the world's most fabulous snow globe. They rained down on Claire, on the lean-to, and especially on the delighted Cuddlebugs, who chirped and danced in the glittery shower.
David sat up, sputtering and spitting out mouthfuls of wing dust. His fur was covered in shimmering scales, making him look like some bizarre disco-ball version of himself.
"What in the name of all that's holy...?" he began, only to be interrupted by another massive sneeze.
The Cuddlebugs, for their part, were beside themselves with joy. In their minds, this was clearly the reaction they had been hoping for. They bounced and chirped, their tiny faces alight with pride at a job well done.
David looked around, taking in the carpet of wings that covered every surface, the bloated and dusty Cuddlebugs, and the general air of chaotic glee that permeated the scene.
He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Finally, he managed to sputter out, "I don't... How did... You know what? I don't even want to know."
The clever Cuddlebug, sensing its master's confusion, decided that what David clearly needed was more sparkly wings. It scampered off, returning moments later with another mouthful, which it proudly deposited in front of David's nose.
David stared at the offering, then at the expectant faces of his Cuddlebugs. A laugh bubbled up from deep in his chest, growing until it echoed across the mountaintop.
"You little monsters," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of exasperation and affection. "What the shit happened while I was asleep?"
The Cuddlebugs, not understanding the words but recognizing the tone, simply puffed out their chests and preened. As far as they were concerned, this had been a night well spent.
And if the clever one was already planning their next nocturnal adventure? Well, that was a problem for future David to deal with.