Featuring an incredible piece by the unparalled @infraredturbine
The world is an ugly place for a fluffy pony. Even uglier for a foal.
It is 3 AM in Cheyenne. In the dark a pink foal shivers and sobs. His mother left to get nummies several forevers ago, and left him with his two bigger sisters.
Then a raccoon came by. Now he was alone.
“Huuu huuuuuu scawy dawk pwease weabe babbeh awone! Nu hab mummah wite nao! Babbeh need mummah fow feew safesies!” The shivering little fuzzball pleaded into the night sky from under the streetlight he’d sheltered near.
Mummah told him to stay in the nice warm nestie, but now the nestie was so lonely and he didn’t want to get nummed by a munstah. The concrete curb was gritty and dirty, but he sat down on it anyway. Looking around he could see a couple alleys his mummah could return through, but all were empty.
“Huuuuuu babbeh aww awone…”
But he wasn’t. He was being watched from the shadows. “Hewwo…” a raspy and dry fluffy voice called out from the darkness "Fwuffy nu am awone, hab fwuffy!"
Out stepped an older stallion, mangy, clumps of fluff missing. Bleeding from the gums. The babbeh is afraid.
“Nuuu! Nu huwt babbeh! Nee wate fow mummah!” The stallion smiled a wide and unblinking grin as he slowly approached. “Nu wowwy. Wufus gunna hewp wittwe babbeh. Wittwe babbeh nu gunna hab huwties nu mowe…” The mortified babbeh starts squealing for mummah and running away but he only gets a few feet before realizing it’s dark and getting scared.
“Mummah! Sabe babbeh! Scawy fwuffy twy huwt babbeh!” He is startled by a voice from behind him. “Fwuffy nu huwt babbeh. Fwuffy wan hab babbeh fow wong wong time. Suuuuuu many fowebbas wif babbeh…” The foal, now a sobbing snotty mess, is in a full blown panic, screaming and peeping for aid. But none comes. The stallion grabs the foal by his tail and trots away. Echoes of “Nu wike bad upsies” and “owwies nu posed tu howd babbeh by pwetty taiw!” echoed through the night for a few minutes, but before long, all was again quiet.
…
A mother arrives back at her nest to find it covered in blood and bits of fluff. She can see definite signs of her two fillies, but her littlest babbeh, her beautiful pink colt, is nowhere to be found. “Huuhuuuuu babbehs? Babbehs! Whewe babbehs hidin? Pwease babbehs, cum tu mummah! Pwease?” She hides her eyes with her hooves, pulling them away in an apparent attempt to reset the world around her.
It doesn’t work.
The mare flops back onto her haunches, defeated. Between her formless sobs, she starts waving her legs back and forth, to and fro.
“Huuuhuuuuuu wook babbehs huuuu am dancie mummah huhuhuhuhuuuuu pwease babbehs cum bak tu dancie mummah! Am dancie mummah fow babbehs…”