Crumbkin is Bunby’s younger sibling – or perhaps just a very short friend. No one’s quite sure, and Crumbkin’s too busy chasing apricot buns to clarify.
Unlike Bunby, who rolls with confidence, Crumbkin wobbles like a newly buttered pancake. One enthusiastic hop and – plop – face-first into the gooseberry bushes. Again.
But Crumbkin’s not bothered. Each tumble means a new angle to spot forgotten crumbs. That’s how Crumbkin discovered the hidden slice behind the bakery. “You’ve got to fall for the good stuff,” Crumbkin insists, picking raisins out of their hair with pride.