The Blood Moon's Browlet Breakfast Duty

This is definitely NOT Luna’s blood moon forest.

He glances around, the hallways full of tiny browlets that seem to be walking in one direction down a hallway…

“Mx. Luna! Mx. Luna!” One browlet says, tugging on his sleeve. The grown browbird blinks.

Upon entering the cafeteria, the browlets swing around all of the tables, stopping at a large metal rectangle. They stare at Luna expectantly. She squints. “Wh— What? What is it?”

“You have to open the cooler so we can get milk!”

All the while, the chatter from the line forming grows in volume. 

“Why do I have to—”

The voice of a grown woman sitting at a desk by the kitchen doorway speaks up, sharp and sassy. “Are you freakin kidding me? You’re on breakfast duty, duh. Don’t be an ass and go open the cooler.”

Luna swivels around, offended.

Eventually doing as he’s told, Luna purveys what seems to be his new kingdom: tables full of browlets eating. Some of them raise their hands, holding various food items.

Walking to one, Luna stops. “What. What do you need.”

The browlet just holds the milk bottle up.

“Do you need me to open it???” 

The browlet nods.

“How am I supposed to know what you want if you don’t tell m—”

Another browlet stumbles over, about up to Luna’s kneecap in height. “Mx. Luna, Sunny passed me in line!”

“What?” Luna turns.

The woman at the desk by the kitchen berates a tiny browlet for not knowing their lunch number in the background. Luna watches another one spill an entire smoothie onto the ground. The lady with the mop is scrolling on her phone.

“Why does it matter if—”

Another staff member approaches from the main hall, gesturing for Luna to listen closely. Somewhere down the hall, a browlet wails. “Anna’s crying because she got in trouble with her mom this morning. Can you see her later?”

“Uhhhh—”

One of them trips in the smoothie spill. “Hey, why didn’t you tell me there was a spill?” The lady with the mop asks.

The line leaving the kitchen backs up as the browlets look on in confusion, completely and utterly lost in spite of the uniform way they have done nearly everything else. “Where are we supposed to sit?”

Heartbeat elevated, Luna simply screams.

And then he wakes up in his throne, breathing hard. “WHAT KIND OF NIGHTMARE—”