A kelpie mother has given birth to a litter of six foals, four female and two male. She cleans them, feeds them, and treats them with as much love a regular fluffy mother would. It appears that this is not her first litter. She’s more prepared this time.
She sings of her foals staying safe, of drinking milk and growing strong. She sings of green grasses and blue skies, and warnings of the dangers outside the nest. While her lullabies may be different, may be quieter than the typical ‘Mummah Wuv Babbehs’ that most foals would grow accustomed to, they do as intended and the foal’s peeping cries become quieted in comfort.
The mother is tired and weakened from a lacking food source and the recent birthing, yet she must stay vigilant. For while they may be safe from most predators in her nest located under the thorny brambles of the blackberry brush, her offspring still have many other dangers that she must be wary of. Large snakes, bullfrogs, lizards. If she doesn’t keep her wits about her, any of these things may creep into her home and take advantage of her vulnerable young.
Once the coast is clear, she makes sure her offspring are deep in their slumber before making her move. She makes sure to not linger outside the nest for long, acting disinterested in the thorny brush to keep any unseen eyes from suspecting it’s the location of her home, and more importantly, her young. These brief trips outside the nest are spent hunting, looking for any easy prey or scavenge-able remains of already deceased fluffies and animals. She never drags back too much, in case the smell of blood attracts bigger predators.
Time passes, the kelpie’s young have grown and opened their eyes, taken their first steps, and learned how to run as fast as their little legs will allow. They’re only allowed out of the nest under the strict supervision of their ever cautious mother. Out of the six offspring, only two appear to be kelpies, sporting the swirl patterned eyes and showing signs of having grown in their milk-teeth. They play typical fluffy games of chase and huggie tag, or stacking small pebbles. Though the young kelpies have a tendency to play fight rougher than their non-kelpie siblings, often leading to accidents of biting too hard or kicking too roughly.
This leads to a bit of segregation between the siblings. The majority often displaying resentment or fear of their more rowdy sisters. Their mother, on the other hand, seems to favour the more violent tendencies, praising them and telling them that not holding back will make them grow strong so they can better survive when they grow bigger.
One of the fluffy foals tends to lag behind during play time, the yellow fluffed daughter. Always too slow to keep up or too tired to play as long as the others. Their mother has noticed, and deemed her weak. In the wee hours of the early morning, when the rest of the litter is still asleep, she takes the foal to the side and quickly dispatches of it, chewing her small body into a fine, meaty mulch. There is no point in wasting precious resources on a child that will not survive in the wild. The other foals are awoken to their mother delivering their new breakfast from her cheek pouches before drenching it in her milk to sweeten the taste and make their weaning process easier.
Several of her offspring are unsure of this new diet, making the complaint that their new food “nu taste pwetty” and “Wai nu hab miwkies nu mowe?” Only one wonders where the missing sibling went, the brown colt. He receives no answer. The two kelpie sisters find no issue with the taste of their new found ‘big fwuffy nummies’.
All their meals going forward consist of this new regime. Their mummah goes out, comes back with her cheeks full of carefully prechewed meat, and spits it out to mix together with a puddle of her milk. Most of the foals begin to get the hang of it. Only one seems to be particularly reluctant to the change, the teal blue sister. There are at least three instances where the reluctant foal attempts to drink milk from their mother. Each time, the mummah kelpie kicks her away from her teats and scolds her for it. The rest of her siblings dub her a ‘milkie thief’, chiding the foal with Their mummah and reminding the filly that she’s supposed to be a big babbeh now and collectively agreeing that they’re all getting too old for milkies.
Another week passes and mild rain sporadically showers throughout the last few days and nights. The river’s water level has risen. Unable to play outside without risking getting lost or sick, the kelpie mummah has her children play a competitive game. She has them practice holding their breath, seeing who can hold theirs the longest. Once they seem to get the hang of it, the kelpie mummah has deemed her offspring old enough to learn how to swim.
On a warm, wet summer morning, she escorts her children to the bank of the river. All of them seem afraid of the water. When their mummah tells them that it’s time they learn to swim, she is met with a chorus of protests and fearful cries. “B-Buh wawa am bad fow fwuffies!” “Huuhuu! Nu make babbeh gu swimmies! Babbeh nu knu how!!” “Wawa tuu scawy!!”
Despite the cries, the kelpie mummah tells them that if there is a monster trying to eat them, they have to swim away to stay safe. She attempts to soothe them by telling them it’s just like the ‘holdy breathies game’. Her children refuse to cooperate, trying to reason with her. She simply takes one of her kelpie daughters by the scruff and dives into the shallow waters with her, dragging her through the raised current, periodically lifting the her small body out to allow her to breathe. The foals cry in fear, begging for their mummah and sister not to drown. After a minute or two of this treatment, the kelpie mummah drags her exhausted child to shore and drops her. The kelpie coughs up water, sobbing and shivering as her siblings rush over to give her hugs and love. The process is not done. With her litter distracted by one sibling, she plucks up one of her colts and repeats the process.
The lesson is harsh and despite her instructions on him holding his breath, he drowns within the first 15 seconds. She drops his body on the bank, disappointed at his performance. The foals, not understanding the concept of death try to resuscitate him with hugs, begging him to breathe. The process is repeated again and again with the remaining three foals. The second colt, a brown pegasus, drowns. The remaining kelpie and non-kelpie sisters somehow manage to survive.
The family returns to the nest, the kelpie mummah carrying the bodies of her deceased sons in tow. Later that evening, after recovering somewhat from the harrowing events of their first swimming lesson, the fillies begin pestering their mummah about needing nummies. Their mummah directs them to eat the corpses of their brothers. Naturally, this sparks an emotional disapproval from the three sisters. Their mother proceeds to give them a new lesson about life, death, and doing what is necessary to survive. All the ‘big fwuffy nummies’ they had been living on was from other fluffies that were forever sleepies. Their brothers are forever sleepies now too, and they cannot waste the meat. She makes an example in taking a large bite out of one of the brothers. The last non-kelpie sister cannot accept this way of life, calling her a monster and running from the nest.
Her sisters chase after her, begging for her to come back, trying to remind her of how dangerous it is outside the nest. The teal blue filly refuses, shouting at them. “Nu! Mummah am MUNSTAH! Mummah num bwuddas an’ make babbehs num fwuffies! Nu wan’ be nummed tuu! Nu wan num bwuddas! Nee’ wun ‘way! Fin’ nyu nestie and nyu mummah huuhuu! Nu wuv munstah mummaaaAAAAAAIIIIEEEEE!!”
In a blink, a dark coloured blur swept by. Out of sheer instinct, the fillies dropped low to the ground, staying still in hopes of not being seen. The teal blue filly was no longer there. Following the direction of her screams, the kelpie sisters watched in horror as their sister was carried away by a large bird. It’s razor sharp talons tearing into the flesh of her soft belly as they went up, up, up… Over the trees, never to be seen again. Crying softly with tails tucked between their legs, the two scurried back to the safety of their nest. Their mother met their gaze, her expression filled with disappointment and heartache. Shaking her head lightly, she sniffled and gestured to the remains of their fluffy brothers.
“Num yo bwuddas, babbehs… Num dem an’ gwow big an’ stwong. Num dem su dey awways be wif 'ou…”
Tearfully, the sisters remain reluctant. They wait until their bellies hurt too much, and they can no longer resist the need to eat. The two slowly devour their brothers, not wasting a single bite. The taste was familiar, but neither of them could place the reason why. For the rest of the night the family mourns.
From then on, the kelpie mummah brings them whole chunks of fluffies or half-eaten scraps to feed on. Forcing them to learn how to tear flesh from bone and strengthen their jaws. It’s difficult at first, but the sisters learn in time. Some days there’s barely enough meat to make their hunger pains go away. Eventually, their mummah told them they had to leave the safety of their nest.
“Dewe nu am ‘nuff nummies hewe. Nee’ tu find nyu nestie wiff mowe nummies.”
The sisters were scared and wary about leaving their only home, but if they didn’t follow their mother, they’d be left behind. So they traveled, walking far along the river looking from place to place for safe spots to bed down for the nights.
One day, their ears prick up to the sound of distressed squeals and crying from another foal. They turn to find their mummah enter the burrow they recently claimed as a nest, dropping a strange looking foal to the ground before tipping it over. The foal’s legs kick and flail uselessly as it rocks slightly on it’s bowl shaped back, it’s concave tummy exposed for the kelpie sisters to see.
“PWEESEHUUHUUHUU!! NU NUM BABBEH! AM GUUD BABBEH! BABBEH NU AM FOW NUMMIES! BABBEH AM FOW HUGGIES AN’ WUB! HUGGIES AN WUB!!”
The sisters look up to their mother in uncertainty, unsure of how to feel about the strange looking foal begging to not be eaten. Their motherly curtly tells them to eat it.
“B-Buh babbeh nu am fowebah sweepies… How am s’posed tu num?” “Babbeh am gibin’ wostest saddies… Nu wan num widdwe babbeh…”
Their mother looks down at them, her expression is stern and unyielding. It’s time for another harsh lesson. She asks the sisters if they think the wingie-monster outside felt sad about eating their sister. If it thought twice about the pained screams she made when it dug it’s sharp talons into her middle, making her bleed. She teaches them how the monsters have to eat too. The earthie sister pipes up, saying she doesn’t want to be a monster. Their mother asks her what she will eat instead. Her daughter cannot think of an answer.
“Da outsie nu cawe if ‘ou am guud fwuffy ow bad fwuffy. It nu cawe fow huggies ow wub. Fwuffies am fow nummies. If ‘ou nu num oddah fwuffies, den ‘ou get wostest hungies an’ tummeh huwties, an’ fowevah sweepies. ‘Ou am big fwuffies nao, an’ nee’ be stwong.” Their mother explains, lightly scooting the injured bowl fluffy foal towards them. “Nao gib da nummie fwuffy fowevah sweepies an’ num it.”
The foal’s soft sobs kick up again, crying to the sisters and begging for them to not eat it. They look at the foal still uncertain, walking around it, sniffing, trying to figure out how to proceed and process their emotions. The pegasus kelpie looks back to her mother.
“Mummah? H-How du kewpie gib fowevah sweepies?”
Their mother’s stern expression softens if only for a moment. She teaches them carefully, making sure they’re both paying attention. She tells them how a nummie fluffy can’t run away if it’s leggies are broken. How they can tear open the belly to get to the soft nummie parts inside the fastest, or if they need their prey to be quiet how they can bite their throat to make it stop screaming and go forever sleepies faster.
The kelpie sisters take their mother’s teachings to heart, trying their best to kill the baby bowl fluff and make it stop crying. Unfortunately for the nummie foal, their amateur attempts to kill make the process a long, drawn out ordeal of pain and suffering. By the time the pitiful creature had finally died, they’d drawn out it’s tummy sketties, chewed out it’s eyes along with half it’s face, and practically gnawed through the majority of it’s neck. Their mother consoled the two, assuring that they’ll get better with practice, and that starting the next day, she would take them out to teach them how to hunt.
This was the regime now. Mummah would take them to go hunt, sometimes finding new places to live when food proved too scarce. She taught them how to track fluffies, what smells were monster smells, and how to be very quiet and still when danger passed them by. They learned that in order to survive, they had to go where the food went. No home was permanent for a kelpie fluffy.
