Before the Storm - Different Forecasts: City Lights Ch 2 [By BFM101]

Note – I’ve stated in earlier chapters that Sycamore was a Pegasus, I’m now changing that to make him an Alicorn. It fits what I need from the story now because, as previously mentioned, I’m making this shit up as I go.

Betsy’s eyes went wide as Sycamore led her through a series of back-alleys, this was her first time experiencing the city and it was incredible. The buildings went so high she couldn’t even see the tops for the clouds, the variety of sights and smells and sounds all frightened and excited her in equal measure. And the people. So many people moving through the morning rush on their way to work, people of all shapes and sizes, people who were colours she had never seen people be before, more people than she would ever be able to count and more of them kept coming.

Betsy didn’t know what a city was. But she loved it.

“Dis am AMAZING! Su many hoomins, can Fwuffies say hewwo.”

Sycamore grimaced slightly. “Dat nu am gud finkie-pwace pwan. Hoomins nu wike Fwuffies wen just wakies, dey wan gu tu wowkies.”

“Wha am wowkies?”

“It am whewe hoomins gu tu git munies, munies am yoose tu git nummies an toysies.”

Betsy briefly wondered how Big Mummah got her munies since she never went to work, but her thoughts were interrupted when Sycamore dashed off, she quickly followed him through a hole in a wooden fence and around the back of a building to a large open plan area surrounded by skips and debris.

This was the garbage area for the local restaurants, with separate bins for food waste, recyclables and general waste. With four restaurants all using the same area for waste, it should’ve been a haven for ferals, however local authorities had a Kill-On-Sight approach to ferals and executed that approach with extreme prejudice.

Even now, Betsy could still smell the lingering scent of death hovering in the air.

Sycamore had watched many a smarty try their luck at demanding food from one of the human nummie places, and he had seen many a smarty get their faces caved in by a frying pan, including his own father but looking back, Sycamore guessed his dad kinda deserved it.

Sycamore was smart, by Fluffy standards anyway, and he learned to keep his voice down, avoid the humans as much as possible and only eat what he could find, truth be told, all four restaurants knew he was there, but Sycamore was such a quiet guest that collectively they chose to live and let live, some of them even “accidentally” dropping some errant food onto the ground whenever they took the trash out.

Plus, Sycamore being a monster made sure that no other Fluffy would come near the ‘munstah place’, even with the temptation of food.

Sycamore led Betsy to a spot in the corner, hidden by weeds and old sheets of metal, it was a small covering where he had gathered soft leaved and bits of paper to make a nest. Sycamore puffed his chest out proudly when showed it to Betsy.

“Dis am Syc-ah-mowe’s nestie, make it aww by Syc-ah-mowe’s sewf.”

The sight of an actually decent bed made Betsy earn for her days back with Big Mummah and the soft bed she shared with her family, but after weeks of being forced to sleep on cold grass and lumpy earth, this looked like the next best thing.

“It am vewy nice, Syc-ah-mowe must be smawt.”

Sycamore blushed slightly. “Nu am smawt, jus be ousside Fwuffy fow wong time.”

“How du Syc-ah-mowe du it?” Betsy asked as she lay down on the ground, finding a spot of dry grass peeking out of the concrete. “Bet-see yoose be inside Fwuffy wiv hoomin mummah, bu den famiwy am stowen by biggesh Smawty meanie Cwowwey, gib daddeh foweba sweepies. Dat su many fowebas gu, Bet-see fink been ousside Fwuffy wonga dan inside Fwuffy, bu stiww nu am yoose tu it.”

Sycamore joined Betsy on the ground, laying in front of her on the edge of his nest. “Syc-ah-mowe neba be inside Fwuffy, bu mummah was, she wun way cos hew hoomin mummah nu wet hew hab babbehs. Syc-ah-mowe hab happies dat mummah hab Syc-ah-mowe, bu mummah neba wike bein ousside Fwuffy, awways hab heawt-huwties bout nu sketti ow toysies ow tee-bee. Syc-ah-mowe nu eben know what tee-bee am bu mummah miss it su muchies.”

Betsy giggled, she liked TV as well, but she hadn’t thought about it in weeks. Sycamore’s mummah must’ve been silly to care THAT much about it.

Sycamore continued his speech. “Syc-ah-mowe fink day Bet-see jus nu am yoose tu bein ousside Fwuffy yet. Bu dat am ok, Syc-ah-mowe teech yu.”

As if on cue, the back door to one of the restaurants burst open, Betsy lifted her head to see but Sycamore pushed her back down, keeping low to the ground. The two of them stayed hidden as a young man with a grease stained apron trudged outside carrying a stack of large but thin boxes, Betsy could smell the cold cheese and lukewarm marinara sauce from here and knew exactly what was inside.


Sycamore nodded. “Dat am Cwaig, he wowk at peeza nummie housie. He am gud hoomin, bu nu wan him git in twoubew wiv hoomin smawty, su need stay qwi-et.”

Craig got to his restaurants’ skips and balanced the pizza boxes on one half of the lid while opening the other half. He then reluctantly began emptying the leftover pizzas into a nearby Food Waste bin then dumping the boxes into the regular skip.

“Of course Mr Hamilton. Right away Mr Hamilton. Choke on a fucking anchovy Mr Hamilton.” Craig muttered to himself, throwing each new pizza box in with increasing force. “Not like we could’ve given these to the fucking homeless now, could we Mr Hamilton?”

Craig glanced behind him, hoping to chance his luck and steal some of the pizzas to redistribute later, but no luck, the backdoor security camera was pointing right at him. As he turned back to his task at him, he glanced over to where he knew Sycamore’s nest to be and caught the sight of some yellow Fluff just peeking out at him.

Craig smiled, happy that Sycamore had a friend, perhaps more than that. With practised precision, Criag reached for the next box and “accidentally” knocked over his stack, sending leftover pizza all over the dirt and concrete.

“Oh no.” He exclaimed with all the fake shock he could barley manage to expel. “I’ve dropped all the food, I’ll need to get the special gloves to pick those up. I sure hope nobody steals any of this while I’m gone.”

Criag turned and took a quick walk back to the restaurant where he immediately found the food waste gloves, and promptly ignored them to start looking about in the wrong location. Sycamore waited until the backdoor had closed behind him before darting out towards the spilled food.

“Come Bet-see, need git nummies befowe hoomins see.”

Betsy followed Sycamore to the spilled pizza, she watched as he grabbed a slice by its crust and started pulling it back to the nest.

“Du wha Syc-a-mowe am duin, need git aww da nummies we can.”

Betsy followed suit and bit into a crust and started dragging, she was surprised at how much effort it took her, the pain in her jaw kept slowing her down and by the time she got one slice back to the nest, Sycamore was on his third and by that point Craig had returned.

“Am sowwy Syc-a-mowe.” Betsy said with a sniffle. “Onwy git wun nummie peece, mouthie-pwace hab tuu many huwties wen bwinging nummies hewe.”

“It am ok Bet-see, yu du aww yu can du, an dat am enuff. Dewe be udda nummies, we twy gain nudda bwite-time.”

“Nudda? Yu wan Bet-see stay?”

Sycamore nodded. “Yeh, am wong time since Syc-a-mowe see Fwuffy dat nu fink Syc-a-mowe a munstah. Syc-a-mowe wike habben Bet-see hewe, wan Bet-see be fwiend. Du Bet-see wan stay?”

The pause she took stabbed at him, but Sycamore held his tongue, waiting for her answer. After a few too many seconds, she answered.

“Bet-see du wan stay, wan be fwiends wiv Syc-a-mowe tuu. Bu Bet-see need gut bak tu mummah an bwudda an sissy, mummah awweady wose bwudda Twavis, she hab wowstesh heawt-huwties if fink wose Bet-see tuu.”

Sycamore nodded. “Syc-a-mowe undastan, famiwy am impowtant, Syc-a-mowe miss mummah an fink mummah miss Syc-a-mowe tuu, bu hab been tuu many fowebas for Syc-a-mowe tu find hew gain. Nu wan Bet-see gu thwoo dat tuu, su Syc-a-mowe pwomise hewp Bet-see wook fow hew mummah in da neks bwite-time.”

“Weawwy? Syc-a-mowe du dat?”

“Yeh, wememba whewe Syc-a-mowe find Bet-see, jus need gu bak an see if can find wha wawa-pwace Bet-see come fwom.”

Betsy rushed over and gave Sycamore a big hug. “Fank yu nyu fwiend, Bet-see hab biggesh heawt-happies tu meet Syc-a-mowe.”

Sycamore returned her hug and the two of them stayed holding each other for a few second, when all of a sudden, Sycamore jumped and pushed her back.

“Wha? Wha wong Syc-a-mowe.”

“It nuffin Bet-see, jus… jus wittew pwobwem, it gu way soon.”

Betsy was confused until she saw the stallion as hiding his lower half from her view, and something inside her biological time limit ticked into the right place.

“Du Syc-a-mowe’s nu-nu stik wike Bet-see?”

“WHA? NU NU… Well, a wittew bu nu wike….”

Betsy giggled at Sycamore’s embarrassment, she had never had this reaction with a stallion before… well never with one she wanted to get a reaction from, but something in her body was telling her she could have babies now, and she wanted this handsome brown stallion to give them to her.

“Du Syc-a-mowe wan hab speciaw-huggies?”


“Wha? Yu am stawwion, Bet-see am mawe, wha am pwobwem? Yuw nu-nu stik wike Bet-see.”

“Nu-nu stik hab finkie-pwace of it own. Wook, Syc-a-mowe wike Bet-see, bu Bet-see nu am weady tu hab babbehs yet. Yu gib wittew mawe smeww, dat wha make Syc-a-mowe nu-nu stik gwow, bu mawe smeww jus say yu am weady for enfies, nu dat yu am weady fow babbehs.”

Betsy was confused, she knew that enfies made babbehs, but how could you have enfies without making babbehs.

“Bet-see nu undastan.”

“Syc-a-mowe’s mummah teww him, wen mawe am nu wonga a fiwwy, bu nu yet fuww mawe, she gib off mawe smeww, wich meen she can hab babbehs, bu hew finkie-pwace nu fuwwy dewe yet, so she be bad mummah, make bestesh babbehs an be meanie tu bwown babbehs. It nu da mawe’s fauwt, dey jus hab bad finkie-pwace, an nu can git gud wun.”

“Wen can yu knyo if mawe weady tu be mummah?”

Sycamore pointed to a low spot on Betsy’s stomach, just between her thighs. “Wen Bet-see hab miwkies pwaces show, den she be weady tu be mummah. Yu awwmosh dewe, bu nu yet.”

“Bet-see am sowwy twy gib bad huggies tu Syc-a-mowe, am bad fwiend.”

“Nu am bad fwiend, jus nu knyo wight. It am sumfing dat nu wot of Fwuffies knyo, su nyu feew bad bout it.”

To cheer her up, Sycamore nudged one of the pizza slices over to her, a simple cheese slice with bright red sauce oozing out the sides and little specks of green herbs dabbed all over. Betsy smiled at her new friend and took a bite.

“Fank yu Syc-a-mowe, yu am gud fwiend.”

Sycamore smiled back at her and joined her in their shared lunch, the last 18 or so hours had been a strange time for Betsy, but she was happy she had Sycamore to help her and she knew with his help, she would find her family again.

As she thought of her family, she felt her stomach turn and she knew she missed them terrible. At least she thought that was why her stomach turned. In truth, as she chewed on the pizza slice, taking in those little green herb specks, her body was starting to react in a way that didn’t have the capacity to cause any damage at the moment, but held an impeding danger for her in the future.

After all, how was a Fluffy to know what parsley tasted like?


amo tu de los pilares de esta comunidad.

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Oh my parsley…seems it will showed up again soon.

Nice to see a stallion knows the danger of special huggies at a wrong time glad Sycamore’s mom taught him about this “issue”.

Betsy was like any mare just triggered “want have babies” like no restrain and not knowing the consequences of early pregnancy, glad Sycamore knows .

Hope to see the next part soon.


Don’t worry, it only took me… 7 months to write this 2nd chapter.

You should see Chapter 3 before Christmas at this rate.


:heart: i’m waiting

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Don’t worry, if you don’t feel like writing more you can just have a meteor impact kill the entire cast.


The dichotomy of man

Too much drive to allow a damn rock to have all the fun

Not enough drive to have the fun myself


You ok, man? I send you hugs

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Just a little burnout.

I’ve written almost 350 chapters of Fluffy stories in a little over 3 years.

Kinda overdid it a little bit there


Goddamn… What’s your secret? Addies, coke, ket?

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I wish it were coke.

It be a lot more interesting than my lack of a social life.

Honestly if not for videogames I’d probably be writing a lot more.


Take your time and don’t over do so much ok? Will wait for the next chapter whenever your ready.

Video games do help relax. :+1: