Amey’s Favorite Color
Some time back, lounging on the front steps to her home, it was common to see a pet fluffy named Amethyst. She was a beautiful mare in sparkling blue, renowned and desired by all the stallions, but she was also exceedingly picky. No matter how pretty a stallion proposed to her and asked to be her special friend, she always turned her nose up and said the same phrase: “Sowwy, but nu wan yu as speciaw fwen.”
Most assumed she was snobby and only wanted a fluffy as pretty as herself, but even when a white and gold unicorn escaped his home to court her, she simply declined. “Thank yu, but nu. Amey nu wan yu as speciaw fwen.”
“Wha?” The unicorn balked. “But why?! Gowdiwocks am pwettiest fanciest fwuffy, why pwetty mawe nu wan?!”
“Yu am vewy pwetty an’ fancy,” Amethyst agreed, “an’ Amey am suwe yu wiww make a fwuffy vewy happy. But… Yu nu am Amey’s favowite cowow, so nu wan yu as speciaw fwen.”
Although Goldilocks was devastated, this reveal stunned the local stallion population. Each one thought that perhaps his fur was the coveted favorite color Amethyst sought! But even so, she rejected every stallion, whether his fur was red or blue or green or yellow. And soon, wanting to be the first in their color to propose to Amethyst, the stallions started fighting amongst themselves.
“Smawty wiww couwt Amey! Haf pwetty pink fwuff!”
“Dummy! Amey wiww wuv puwpwe fwuff, am su pwetty an’ woyaw!”
“Yu fwuffs am wed an’ bwue, yu dummies! Ponpon haf bestest pinkest fwuff!”
Such arguments filled the air outside Amethyst’s home each day.
But behind all these fights and big stallions was a little stallion who, rather than fighting and brute forcing matters, was thoughtful and a bit clever. And so, he had a plan: Instead of relying on his own fur, why not dye it? He thought Amey was as beautiful as a flower, and that if he brought her a bouquet of flowers in every color there was, she would let slip which color was her favorite. And then he could simply roll in paint and mud and flowers to make himself that color! And since his own fur was a boring pale beige, it wasn’t like he would lose much by changing it.
So he snuck around the neighborhood, seeking out pretty flowers in red and blue and yellow and pink and purple - he even found a black one! And so, with a bouquet almost too big for his jaw to hold, the little beige fluffy snuck past all those arguing smarties and up to where Amethyst lay on the porch.
“H-Hewe,” he murmured, placing the flowers in front of her. “Fow yu.”
He didn’t even dare propose. After all, how could he when he had yet to dye his fur? As such he just admired the way Amethyst’s eyes lit up, and waited for her to pick out her favorite flower …
But instead, she hugged him with a delighted squeal.
“Yu! Yu am favowite cowow!” she cheered. “Pwease, be Amey’s speciaw fwen!!”
Him? But he was beige! A boring no-good color just one step away from a poopie! The little stallion was utterly stunned, but even so he instinctively hugged back and felt his face flush red. “Y-Yu… wike fwuffy cowow?”
“Amey wuvs fwuffy’s cowow!” Amethyst snuggled into the little stallion. “Thank yu!”
“B-But why? Why nu wike gween ow bwue ow-?”
“Cus Amey haf dose cowows awweady!” Amethyst let go of her new special friend with a tiny huff, leading him inside. “Mummah put suuu many cowows evewywhewe in safewoom, an’ Amey am sick of dem! Weds an’ bwues an’ puwpwey stuff … Yu sandy cowow am much easiew on the eyesies!”
There was no way he could argue against that, especially as he saw the beautifully colored interior of the house with carpets and plants and white furniture. So Amethyst lead him directly to her mother, a tall lady with jewelry and patterns galore, and proudly wagged her tail. “Mummah! Amey found speciaw fwen!”
“A feral? And such a plain one, too!” gasped the mother, crouching down to look at the two. “Are you sure about this?”
“Amey am suwe!” Amethyst hooked her front legs around the beige fluffy and nuzzled him close. “Fwuffy bwing Amey fwowahs, an’ nu ask tu be speciaw fwens wight away, an’ am Amey’s favowite cowow! Pweaaase?”
“Well, alright I suppose, a sparkly beige could have a nicely homey feeling… What’s your name, little fluffy?”
“Um… F-Fwuffy nu haf namesies,” the beige fluffy admitted.
“That won’t do. Hmm, I suppose your name will be… Well, no… What jewelry is there in such a color …?”
“Siwwy mummah,” giggled Amethyst. “Amey knows fwuffy name! Fwuffy am Speciaw Fwen!”
“Oh I’m not calling him that. How about Sandstone?”
The beige fluffy begun to tear up, looking between the two new women in his life. “Y-Y… Yus… Sandstone wuvs nyu name! An’ Sandstone wuvs nyu wife!!”
So it was that the least impressive stallion, of a color that none had expected would work, became Amethyst’s new love. As for the rest of the stallions, well, they had all sorts of other things to fight over. There was one thing they agreed on, though…
There really was no accounting for taste.