A Backwoods Encounter
When we left off, a fluffy named Red and his daughter Flower had just lost the mother of the family to a boar. Since then, the two seem to have gotten on alright although it’s pretty clear that Red isn’t the cuddly type like…. Well like literally every other fluffy. I think he was born out in the wild so it stands to reason that he may have been rewired a bit by the whole “strongest survive” aspect of that. Not much room for frivolity and happy skipping when you could be a meal at any given moment, I guess.
There weren’t any major incidents for a few weeks after that. Moose, my wife’s personal pet fluffy, and Flower spent a lot of time together. If he knocks her up, their asses are moving into the fucking barn. Speaking of babies, we had something of a relapse. Actually several kinds of relapses over time. I learned that without a constant reminder hanging overhead, fluffies tend to forget hard learned lessons like “this is punishable by death”. One issue that came back was “bad mummahs” neglecting their foals with blatant favoritism of the prettier ones.
Unacceptable. But I can’t keep dealing with this shit all the time. I needed to make an example. Same for other offenses like bullying or outright assaulting other fluffies unjustly and of course those found to be shirking their chores but taking food anyway. I decided to deal with the dams first. I watched the herd of dams and foals intently for an hour, taking careful note of who was the worst offenders and who REALLY needed a mudhole stomped in their ass. After that hour it was plainly obvious.
The chosen offender was a pink mare with a white mane. And of course with beauty comes a shit personality. As far as she was concerned, she was the greatest thing ever to breathe air. And her foals were second to none. Well except the brown one. The other two were pretty and special and blah blah blah this bitch is so about to get it……
“YOU!” I barked as I came to stand in front of the fluffy family. They all jumped, the foals screeed, and the yellow one actually shit. Kinda funny. “Why haven’t you paid this baby any attention?! You haven’t fed your baby once all day, I’ve been watching!”
The little bitch scrunched up her face at me and blew a raspberry. “Dummeh mistuh nu knu dat poopie babbeh. Bigges dummeh.” I raised my eyebrows and cocked my head to the side. Accidentally cracked my neck too but it added to the effect. “The fuck did you just fucking call me???”
The dam blew another raspberry at me and went right back to cooing over her other foals. I drew my pistol and popped a shot off out towards the woods, grabbing the attention of the entire herd and scaring the literal shit out of at least a third of them.
“Who remembers the rule about ‘poopie babies’? Hm? There is no such thing! Right?” Some of the herd nodded along remembering the incident with Marigold but it seemed too many had forgotten. “All babies are to be loved and cared for! That was my rule!” I looked back down at the pink fluffy. “Who is your special friend?” She stared at me wide eyed and trembled, still in shock from the gunshot. “WHO! Is your SPECIAL FRIEND!”
That did it. A bright orange fluffy came waddling over from the crops as fast as his stumpy legs could carry him. “ME! Fwuffy am Cupcake’s speciaw fwiend!” Poor little dude looked like he was gonna have a heart attack. Oh well because it’s about to get worse. “Cupcake, huh?” I looked at the pink fluffy taking a deep breath to focus rather than snap. “And you are?” “Fwuffy name Jaspew….” He sheepishly responded. “Well Jasper…… Why is your special friend being a bad momma?”
A rush of emotion flooded across the critters face as he tried to figure out how to feel about the situation. “Speciaw fwiend am… bad mummah?” “That’s what I just said, jagoff.” He seemed to take another moment to register what was about to go down and I have to give him points for self-preservation…… Because Jasper spun around on the spot and rear bucked his special friend in the face with all of his might. What happened next was a flurry of screes, hate-chus, crying from the foals, etc. I swear you throw a bottle of alcohol in here and it’s like watching my parents 30 years ago.
“HEY!” I fired another shot off and wedged my boot between the fluffies to break up the fight. “You don’t fucking dish out punishment here! I fucking do!” Jasper immediately tried to gather up his foals protectively as Cupcake lay sniveling on the ground. “Pwease mistuh gwimm! Pwease no send babbehs away!”
“Oh don’t worry, nobody is being sent away. Because that threat obviously didn’t work. It seems there’s only one thing ferals understand.” And with that I shot Cupcake in the face…. “There. Now you take care of your babies. And the bad momma is gone.” I looked around at the herd that was in a mixed state of shock and terror. “Any more bad mommas around?” Any unattended ugly colored foal was immediately scooped up like it was made of fucking sunshine cotton candy. “Good.”
Cupcake’s final resting place was nailed to the side of the barn with a sign stuck to her that said “bad momma”. By the end of the day there was another next to her that read “bully” for trying to beat food out of a smaller fluffy. Hopefully things like this will only have to happen once now but one should never underestimate the predictability of stupidity……
Later in the evening there was an ugly sounding ruckus on the far side of my crops. I jogged over, in no real particular hurry since my patience for fluffy bullshit was at its limit today. As I rounded the corner, however, I was given reason to sprint because I realized that Moose was involved. God help us all if anything happened to him because Elizabeth would fucking kill me.
I ran over to the issue and was surprised to find four fluffies involved in an altercation. Moose was standing in front of Flower, guarding her. And guarding BOTH of them was Red…… Towering over a rather ragged looking blue fluffy, who was also fairly thoroughly beaten. To be honest, I think Red could take on a full grown coyote……
“What the fuck is going on here?!?!” “Daddeh!” Moose exclaimed as he and Flower ran behind me. “Dat meanie fwuffy came fwom da twees! Twied to huht me an Fwoweh!” “From the trees??? The fuck?” I stared at the offending fluff trying to figure out why he looked familiar. “Dummeh mistuh!!! Mummah take fowebah sweepies because uv ou! Ou monstah hoomin!” Momma?
“Well fuck me…… You’re Marigold’s foal.” The solid blue fluffy looked like utter shit compare to last time I saw him. He stanced out and puffed out his cheeks at me, making the angriest face he could. “OOoooooh! He’s a big bad fluffy! I bet you think you’re pretty smart, too!” “Puddwe am smawtest fwuffy ebah! Am stwongest smawty fwuffy!” I snerked and grinned openly. This was gonna be too good.
“Moose, take Flower to the barn. Now.” Moose knew better than to argue. He nudged and pushed his friend through the crops and out of sight. Once the little ones were gone I gently tapped Red with my boot. “He tried to hurt Flower, huh? Do daddies let their babies get hurt Red?” He actually didn’t respond like I expected. He made a weird sort of growling noise, kinda high pitched because… y’know…. Fluffy. But he just started doing this growling panting thing and practically vibrated in place.
“Well what are you waiting for? Go one Red, get his ass!” I lit a smoke and backed away as Red the angry father rushed the little blue jackass and proceeded to stomp him to death in an exceedingly impressive display of parental rage. Like seriously, these things are made to be loved and cuddled. I think Red was crossbred with a sledgehammer somehow.
I made my way back towards the barn and found my wife outside calling for Moose. “Moose! C’mon baby! Let’s get ready for bed!” I looked in the barn and scratched my beard before waving Liz over. “There might be a problem with that babe……” She walked over to my side and looked in the barn to see Moose and Flower cuddled up in some loose hay. “What?! No he’s still too young!” “Baby he’s a young adult in their life cycle.” She rapidly went through a cycle of motherly jealousy and some other feminine shit that I don’t really understand. Moose made no attempt to come inside all night. And I don’t think he will again, to be honest.
That’s all i originally wrote before the Booru shut down. I’m unsure if i want to continue at Grimmwood ranch or do something new… Ya’ll help me out here