A New Adventure - Part 3 (by:TheFloofer)

A New Adventure - Part 3

By TheFloofer

Originally published on Fluffy Booru, Nov 2015.

Eventually the little celebration died down and members of the herd started to make their way towards the entrance of the safe place for the night. A couple fluffs worked together to roll the pregnant mare down the hole then trotted in behind her. “Time fo huggies and fwuff piwle an sweepys,” the crippled smarty beamed.

“Umm… I don’t think I’m going to fit in there smarty.”

“Hoomin toughie fwriend no join fwuff piwle?”

I looked down at the hole then at the smarty’s clearly disappointed face. “Sorry but I don’t think I’ll fit in there. I will just have to sleep somewhere else.” Truthfully I wasn’t exactly eager to climb into a small dirt tunnel, let alone sleep in it when I could just walk home.

Then I heard cries of, “Twy! Pwease twy!” from behind me. Then the grey toughie popped his head out of the hole and put down his little hoof in protest.

“If Hoomy toughie fwiend sweep awtside den toughie fwiend sweep awtside too.”

“Yeah,” agreed the smarty. “Hoomy hewo! Hewd no wet sweep awone!”

“Bu it no safe. Babbehs will ge nummed by munstehs or get bad coldies,” whined a worried looking mare. Looks of fear and concern crept onto the faces of other fluffies but none seemed to change their minds about sleeping with me outside.

“Ok I’ll try,” I finally said as I knelt over and genteelly moved the smarty away from the hole so I didn’t accidentally squish him. Then, to fluffy cheers and words of encouragement and with fluffies needlessly trying to help by pushing me from behind, I shimmied my way into the tunnel. It was dark until I was totally inside and light shone through the entrance behind me. The burrow consisted of a single, tree-root-lined chamber which was just large enough for me to turn around in without too much difficulty so long as I remained laying down. Before I could do anything else a waterfall of colorful giggling fluff burst through the entrance tunnel and ran straight into me. They crashed into a pile then got up and started to hug each other and parts of me.

“Pway time,” I heard a fluffy shout excitedly as various little games between fluffies began to take place. I mostly just watched, but petted or sort of tickled whatever fluffy came over to me. Even the smarty had somehow been pushed down here and over towards me.
When he thought he was close enough he said, “So happy hoomy toughie in safe pwase! Onlwy rule is no bad poopies in safe pwase. Undustan?”
“Yeah I understand,” I answered, fighting hard not to laugh at the idea of a fluffy telling me not to make ‘bad poopies.’
“Gud,” he smiled. “Gif upsies to speshwa fwiend?” I picked him up then set him next to his mare and he began awkwardly trying to hug his special friend again, clearly still in pain from his fall.
It wasn’t long before the herd’s foals came over and discovered the large front pocket on my hoodie. With excited cries of “Hoomy toughie hab bestest fwuff,” they climbed inside and giggled loudly as they played on and around me or with my fingers. This happy fluffy party continued until, one by one, the fluffs became tired. All of the younger foals returned to their mothers who happily snuggled up next to or on top of me until I was covered in a blanket of fluff. I was surprised that the mares of the herd trusted me in letting some of their babies sleep together inside my pocket.

“Upsies?” The smarty asked, reaching his wavering front legs up as high as he could.

“Sure,” I agreed as I picked him up then set him down at my side, next to his mare who had rolled against one of my legs.

“Noaw hurwd have bestest fwuff piwle evah,” he said contentedly as he snuggled up against the soft fabric of my shirt, a couple other fluffies sleepily agreed.

I laid back and looked up at the dirt ceiling blankly. This was weird. It certainly wasn’t what I was expecting when I walked outside today, that’s for sure. As long as they don’t shit on me I guess I’m ok with this. Then I felt a soft nudge on my neck and heard a whisper. It was the grey toughie.

“Wha’ big toughie thinkin’ bout,” he asked as he nestled his big body into my armpit and rested his head on my shoulder, looking up at me as if his tiny brain could somehow understand me.

“Just fluffies…”

“Fwuffies?”

“Yeah,” I replied as I lowered a hand onto his head and scratched him until he began to softly coo. “Do you have a name?”

“Just toughie fwiend, oh speshwal fwiend, oh daddeh, oh gwey.” I’m definitely going to call him grey out of those choices, I thought. “Onwy Smawty have speshwal hoomin name.”

“Really what’s his name?”

He glanced over at the sleeping smarty. “He no wike it because a munstah give it to him.”

“What is it?”

Clearly grey didn’t want to say it but still he leaned closer to my ear, “Fwuk toy,” he whispered, “Dat mean bad spweshial huggies.”

“Oh.” I glanced down at the crippled yet smiling smarty sleeping next to me. I could only hope that he wasn’t named after what his owner used him for. I looked again at the marks on his face and at the broken stub of a horn on his head. I also noticed that his fluff was thinner in patches. I suppose he could have been used for breeding too, but he wasn’t that good looking and had clearly been abused. I remembered how easily I had intimidated the smarty earlier. It probably took everything he had to hold his smarty act together, if he even was a real smarty.

“Smawty starwt hurwd after wun away from bad housie an munstah daddah. An save hurwd fwom munstahs an bad fwuffies.”

"Sounds like quite the smarty.” Grey nodded in agreement as I continued to slowly scratch his back.

His eyes lit up. “Noaw big toughie save smawty an herwd, an get herwd nummies. An have bestest fwuff and warmies for fwuff piwile. An hewlp pwotect herwd an take new wands with otha toughies an smawty.” He paused for a moment. “Will big fwuffy be gwey’s bestest fwiend?” Grey looked up at me, almost a little nervous looking, as if he was scared I might say no.

"Uh, sure grey.”

A big grin spread across grey’s face as he wiggled and giggled in my armpit. “Gwey wuv new bestest fwiend.”

I smiled back at him then looked back up at the dirt ceiling.

“Good nigh new bestest fwiend,” grey whispered happily as he nestled further into my armpit then relaxed. His short, thick fluff pushed up around him.

Protecting the herd and “taking new lands” could be interesting I guess, but am I really going to sleep in a fluffy hole? I felt some of the foals sleeping in my pocket move on my stomach. There were mares with their foals on top of me too. I hope I don’t roll over in my sleep, I could accidentally kill half the herd, I thought. I found the idea hilarious but, for some reason, the thought also made me feel kinda sick. Laying here, at the center of a warm fluff pile, I felt, for the first time in a long, long time. That something truly trusted me and needed me, and for some crazy reason I didn’t really care if it was shit rats.

I pulled the bag containing my gear and hunting knife out from under me and quietly tossed it to the side of the chamber. I wouldn’t be needing it for now. I shouldn’t sleep here, but the enveloping warmth and the total trust of these sleeping creatures was something I had been needing for a long time. I’ll stay for a little bit longer. I closed my eyes…
.
.
.
Something rustled outside.

link to part 4

27 Likes

Oh no. You will certainly need that knife. Don’t throw it away like that

7 Likes

Part 4?

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i love this so far, hope the fluffies dont find the knife before he can explain and then assume that he will betray and kill them

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Part 4 is on the way

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