From the haze, Little (Reddit-word) returned to the place of the living. It believed it was still in the rapture of a dream. In the foal’s unfocused vision, there lied a mare on her side, letting two fluffies suckle, while another one dozed contently, having already fed. As the double vision affixed into a single cohesion, Little (Reddit-word) spied the rest of the herd mingling about their patch of city. There were cardboard boxes and ripped up garbage bags galore, spread out in a kind of fluffy shantytown. All kinds of food in various stages of rot littered the area, which meant that bugs and rodents were constantly scurrying about the area.
The foal would have been scared senseless at the creepy sights if it were not surrounded by these other fluffies in this bizarre dream. Except, as the orphan stirred, it was dawning that this was no dream at all. “Fwuffies… fwuffies am hewp Widdow Fabbo? Fwuffies am wub Widdow Fabbo!?” The foal’s voice was scratchy. It was still suffering from the illness, but the worst had passed with time. Not that Little (Reddit-word) was capable of appreciating that a number of days had passed since his last moment of true consciousness.
Not that the adult fluffies were capable of any better, despite being much older. Still, credit where credit was due; the nurse mares had done well in keeping the sickly baby alive with next to no medical knowledge whatsoever. Just pure instinct, doting nursing sessions, and naive affection.
“Wai fwuffy caww fwuffy ‘Widdow Fabbo’?” asked a nurse mare that was off to the foal’s side, in the middle of grooming one of the other herd-foals.
The question made Little (Reddit-word)'s heart sink. “W-Widdow Fabbo hab famiwy… buh… buh munsta-mistow…” The foal trailed off and tears started to well in its eyes. Not even a minute had passed before the sadness wrapped its coils around the tiny thing. The orphan continued nonetheless, “Munsta-mistow gib famiwy aww foweba sweepies!”
The foal was not aware, but the other fluffies within earshot had stopped what they were doing to listen to the foal. It was supposed to be a happy occasion that the “babbeh-friend” woke up from its “sickies”. Hearing its story up until then caused the listeners to gasp and sob. The terms were simplistic and childish, but they were as moving as the most impassioned prose penned by man. But the terrible story was not finished. Little (Reddit-word) spoke on, “Den, munsta-mistow gib Widdow Fabbo huwty-fing an’… an’… an’ caww Widdow Fabbo ‘Widdow Fabbo’! Huuu huuu huuu huuu…”
The scandalous claim was echoed in murmurs around the herd’s camp. The other foals were far too sheltered by their herd to understand what the implications were, and while their wide eyes searched for some clue in the expressions of their family members, the adult fluffies repeated, “Munsta-mistow gib huwties to babbeh an’ babbeh famiwy!” They took this news hard-- how could a little baby know about such awful things? There was no doubt in their tiny minds that the orphan was being truthful.
Only bad fluffies even thought about lying, anyway.
One of the mares that contributed to bringing the orphan back to health scooped it up in her forelegs and rocked it back and forth lovingly. “Poow widdow babbeh! Babbeh am fo’ huggies an’ wub!”
“Widdow Fabbo kno’!” With this simple acknowledgement, this validation, Little (Reddit-word) shattered and bawled its eyes out. “Widdow Fabbo am so saddies awways! Too muchies huwties!” The foal cried until it was physically impossible for it to make anymore sad sounds. It had cried itself hoarse, compounding the fact that it was recovering from malady.
The nursing mares cycled Little (Reddit-word) between the ones that were not busy with their own foals. This way, no one foal was neglected or forced to wait an unreasonably long time to be fed. These fluffies were seasoned self-breeders! The unfortunate foal was so grateful to finally have regular feeding again. The days and nights passed so quickly in this loving environment, whereas every moment prior felt like several lifetimes unfolding simultaneously.
The regular meals weren’t as nice as the playtime, though! Little (Reddit-word) was smaller than the other foals, but it enjoyed joining in on the games all the same. It did not matter that it could not keep up with the others because its legs were too short compared to the others. Or that the orphan got winded easily compared to the other fluffies.
However, these qualities were noticed by the adult fluffies, especially the stallions. They were the brunt of the herd’s workforce for finding food to eat and other resources for the nesting camp; they saw little use for a rescue-runt. Much less, a rescue-runt with a name. Every other fluffy in the herd was called fluffy. Every other fluffy called Little (Reddit-word) “fluffy”, but the foal would not shake calling itself “Widdow Fabbo”. Its inherent mental configuration would not allow it to, and it was not nearly self-aware enough to realize what had transpired within the cognitive wiring of its brain.
“Widdow Fabbo–”
“Nu! 'Ou am fwuffy, nu Widdow Fabbo! Stahp cawwing fwuffy Widdow Fabbo! ‘Ou bein’ dummeh!” the herd’s smarty snapped after losing patience with the rescue’s insolence.
Little (Reddit-word) cowed and tucked into a defensive ball, covering its head with its forelegs. “Nu yeww at Widdow Fabbo! Am onwy widdow babbeh! Babbeh hab heawt-huwties, huuu huuu huuu!”
The nursing mares kept their distance. Their maternal drives were all imploring them to act when they heard the orphan chirp and cry, but the hierarchy after the smarty’s role was rigidly defined, and the mares did not want to be outed as “dummy” fluffies over this foal taken from outside of the fold.
That did not stop Little (Reddit-word) from attempting to appeal to them, anyway. “Mummahs! Hewp Widdow Fabbo! Fwuffies bein’ meanies to Widdow Fabbo! Am onwy widdow babbeh! Pweasies mummahs! Huu huu huuuu!”
The mares contained themselves and let the runt’s pleas for assistance fall on deaf ears. They busied themselves with attending to their own offspring, who they ushered away from the scene to spare them the theatrics. Those babies were the most important ones. They were the stallions’ children. And the stallions had nothing but contempt for the little rescue. Little (Reddit-word)'s heart broke to see that its friends were abandoning it as well in its time of need.
“Stoopi babbeh! Smawty did nicies fing fo’ stoopi, buh nao stoopi go 'way fwom hewd!” the smarty fluffy decreed after having enough of Little (Reddit-word)'s behavior.
“Screeee! Sccccrrreeeeeee!” Little (Reddit-word) countered with incoherent screaming. The foal could not go back to living alone! It just couldn’t! The orphan loved the nursing mares, and it loved the other babies! This wasn’t fair! “Widdow Fabbo am gud fwuffy! Am gud fwuffy! Wai nu wub Widdow Fabbo nu moa!?”
“Becuz Widdow Fabbo am dummeh, weaklies fwuffy! Too smaww, too swow, an’ too stoopi to be fwuffy!” the smarty fluffy explained in the way that only fluffies could perceive as an explanation.
Little (Reddit-word) could handle no more of the verbal abuse. Its protests became inconsolable cries and sobs. The smarty would not abide by appeals to emotion, though. The stallion would not hinge the benefits of his herd over this one act of charity.
“Toughies! Ta’e dummeh fwuffy ‘way an’ gib wowstest huwties!” the smarty ordered his enforcers.
The secondary stallions were all too eager to be rid of the interloper. One took Little (Reddit-word) by the scruff, and the others flanked him as an escort procession to the edge of the herd’s nest, away from the curious eyes of the other herd members. There, the orphaned, emotionally drained foal was dropped and given one last chance to leave on its own accord.
“Pwease… Widdow Fabbo wub ‘ou! Nee’ ‘ou fo’ huggies and wub!” the foal begged one final time.
“Ta’e foweba sweepies wike west ob 'ou famiwy, stoopi babbeh!” one of the stallions spat. Following the cue, the stallion that had carried the foal away stomped down on one of Little (Reddit-word)'s legs. At the same time, the bones were dislocated from their myriad joints and crushed flat.
The worst pain that the foal ever felt overwhelmed its minuscule brain. With a shrill peep, the orphan’s eyes rolled backwards into their sockets, and the fluffy lost consciousness. This would be the most merciful act it was ever shown in the end. Little (Reddit-word) was not awake to feel the stallions continue their hoofed assault, not too unlike the mallet that had started this nightmarish fluffy-tale.
In only moments, the misery that was Little (Reddit-word) was nothing more than reddened paste on the pavement of some unknown alleyway. The man who had put these events into motion would never know how much suffering he had inflicted on that poor foal in letting it live as he did. And it did not matter.
At the end of this all, life kept going on. The street fluffies quickly forgot about the name “Widdow Fabbo” as they struggled to keep their own lives ongoing, faced with every threat that the foal had to overcome, and more. Fluffies were not designed to retain much of what Hasbio did not intend them to, anyhow. They moved on, going back to their frolicking ways when they were not forced to enact nature’s brutality.
The monstrous man continued to victimize fluffies when he could spare the time to do so, while remaining a victim of a society that his depraved activities did not belong in. Every fluffy corpse left to the hounds was another testament to how excessive, yet meaningless, the foal’s tortured existence was. It was an exercise that accomplished nothing.
Whether it was starvation, the foal’s foolishness, or both, that brought about its demise, one thing is for sure:
Little (Reddit-word) was a truly punished baby for a crime it had no part in committing.
-Author’s Word-
Thank you for reading!
