Munstah didn’t know where he was anymore.
The rolling fogs and frequent rains had gotten him all turned about, everyday he feared that he had gone in the wrong direction and was getting closer to Mustard’s herd instead of further away. He tried to recognise the landmarks around him but every decaying, partially demolish building looked the same to him.
He wondered if he deserved this, for abandoning Amber, for not being strong enough to save his foals. He hadn’t hit the ‘wan-die’ stage yet, but the idea of closing his eyes and never opening them again had crossed his mind. And yet no matter how many times he went to sleep at night, ready for the end, he would always wake up and push himself to eat something.
The only constant in his life right now was the pain, both in his heart and in his lumps. While Murray’s attack hadn’t removed them a planned, the bruising served as a constant reminder of what had happened. It was also how Munstah knew he still had his lumps but with how sore they had gotten he wasn’t certain he could have anymore babbehs.
Not that he deserved babbehs after losing his first litter.
Taking what little solace he could under a thin, nearly barren tree, Munstah waited for the rain to calm down, not even sure where he was going anymore.
Several days had passed by before he found the bridge.
Munstah had seen the massive tree-place leading away from the city several times but had always been too afraid to venture into it. Now with nowhere to go and nothing to lose, he took his first shaky steps onto the wooden bridge, ready to follow it wherever he could.
All around him were signs that he should turn back, the raging rapids of the river below him, dried blood staining the woodwork, even the decaying remains of what might have been an eyeball once. But Munstah kept pushing forward, he no other choice, whatever was waiting for him on the other side, he would face with the understanding that he couldn’t be hurt anymore than he already had been.
The tree-pace provided some level of comfort, the thick canopies protected him from the rains and the small amount of leaves and berries kept him fed. But each day that passed he was finding less and less, leaves were turning brown, berries were drying up, and the ever present stench of dead Fluffies seemed to seep out of every tree around him.
Munstah never saw a body, but he stumbled across bones every now and again, making him wonder what horrors had occurred within the bounds of this forest. Any other Fluffy would’ve turned back in fear by now.
But Munstah pushed forward, silently wishing for the horrors to take him.
After almost a week, Munstah found his way out of the tree-place, but the young Alicorn feared it was already too late for him.
Days of isolation and solitude, driven by fear and guilt, a never-ending surrounding of similar trees, an ocean of browns and greys were even the days were as dark as night. Munstah was scared that he had died in that forest and didn’t even realise.
His mind was fracturing to the point that when he broke free of the woods and was faced with the rolling fields stretching further than he could even comprehend, there was a part of Munstah that didn’t believe his own eyes.
In the distance he could see a solitary tree, large and imposing even from as far away as Munstah was. With nothing else to focus on and too terrified of his own psyche to turn back into the forest, Munstah moved onwards towards the tree, hoping for shelter if nothing else.
To his surprise, after several days stuck in the overgrowth of the tree-place, Munstah somewhat enjoyed feeling a cool breeze on his face again. The cold-times were definitely coming and coming soon, but the soft wind of early winter refreshed his weary heart and centred him back to earth.
And just in time for as Munstah approached the tree, he was shocked to see other Fluffies already occupying its hollow and imposing trunk.
At first Munstah thought it was his mind playing tricks on him, he hadn’t see any Fluffies for days, weeks maybe. But as he slowly approached this feral herd, the whispers and stares he got from the Fluffies around him brought him right back to a cold, unfavourable world.
Eventually he stopped and was approached by two stallions, evidentally the Smarty and one of his Toughies. The Toughie was a dark-blue earthie with a purple mane, large even for a Fluffy and clearly strong just by looking at him. The Smarty was a green unicorn with a blue mane and a scar across his left eye, but what surprised Munstah the most was that while the Smarty was older than him, it didn’t seem by much and he was far from the oldest stallion in the herd.
“Wha Fwuffy duin?” The Smarty asked curtly.
“Pwease, Munstah nu wan twoubew ow huwties. Jus wan gu, nu mean tu make Fwuffies angwy.”
The Smarty and the Toughie whispered to each other before turning back to Munstah. “Am Fwuffy namesie Munstah ow yu am munstah?”
“Fwuffy nu hab namesie, just cawwed Munstah coz am munstah. Nu-wun wub Munstah, Mummah wan gib foweba sweepies, meanie hewd gib tummeh-babbehs foweba sweepies, Munstah nu sabe speciaw-fwiend. Jus wan gu an gu tiww can gu nu mowe, den Munstah wie down an wet foweba sweepies come.”
The Smarty and the Toughie whispered some more to each other, both eying Munstah over, before eventually the Smarty turned to Munstah and smiled.
“Fwuffy can stay wiv hewd fow wittew bit, cowd-times come soon, need hewp tu wook fow nummies. If Fwuffy du his pawt, Fwuffy can stay wiv hewd.”
Munstah couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Nyu fwiend wan Munstah stay, hewp hewd? Bu… am Munstah?”
The Toughie stepped forward. “Fwuffies see udda munstahs befowe, neba hab pwobwem. If nyu fwiend be nice, nu hab pwobwem wiv yu.”
“Fank yu, Munstah pwomise be bestesh Fwuffy.”
The Smarty smiled and nodded. “Du wha Fwuffy can, see wha happen neks. Namesie am Twavis, dis am Twavis hewd, nyu fwiend am wewcome.”
Amber cowered behind a broken door, hoping that the monsters didn’t see her, all around her the sounds of her herd screaming and crying could be heard. She tried to remain as still as she could but it was no use, one of the monsters saw her, a hand reach out towards her and…
Softly stroked her.
“Easy there wee lassie, I gotcha.”
Amber cooed slightly as Daniel Macmillan softly held her in his arm and tickled her neck. Cradling her gently, he went back to join his co-worker Tyler as he finish packing the last of the herd into their cages.
“What you got there?”
“Wee lass was behind the door, fear toot her life. She’s a bonnie wee thing, I think Lewis will take a liking tae her.”
“Good pattern on her, might get some decent foals out of her. Plus she’s the only one here who hasn’t started any shit so temperament is at least better than what we’re dealing with.”
“Any of them any good?”
“Nah, maybe some colours here and there but nothing special, plus we already know they’re not Alicorn friendly since it was those two foal bodies which led us here. Doubt it’ll be worth the effort to house them.”
“Ye still gonna take them in?”
“Have to, that’s what the books say to do. I’ll see if any of the shelters have any room but I’ll be honest, I give the stallions a couple of weeks before the incinerator, less for these two since they’re already giving off rapey vibes.”
Tyler pointed to the cage housing Leafy and Sunny, both of them humping the floor in a fruitless attempt to release the pressure in their balls.
“The mares, we got one seasonal Fluffy who MIGHT be ok since we’re coming up to Christmas, and one monochrome yellow who could be of interest to the right breeder, though if I were a better man I’d guess both of them will be milkbags before the end of the year. The real prize though, is this bitch.”
Tyler slapped the top of the cage housing Grape and her three foals, all of them having just opened the eyes and started talking a few hours ago. The sudden bang of their cage being hit shook the small family and caused the foals to shit themselves in fear.
“Dummeh hoomin scawe bestesh babbehs, wet Gwape out so can gib sowwy-hoofies.”
“Charming wee bitch ain’t she?”
“You don’t know the half of it Danny. This fat cunt has a chip.”
“A chip? I thought they didnae dae that anymore?”
“You get them every now and again, usually in older Fluffies right before they cracked down on the breeding mills. This little lady must’ve been one of the last ones to get the chip because I looked up where she came from and get this, her mother was Abigail Alpha.”
Daniel whistled, the stories of Abigail Alpha was well-known, an Alicorn breeding mare who always produced large litters, almost all Alicorns. It was her rough treatment that spurred on the ongoing argument for Fluffy Rights, especially once Abigail no longer produced Alicorns and was tossed away to starve and die in the garbage. Nobody figured out what in her genetics had changed, but the company that housed her clearly didn’t care anymore.
“So, whit that mean for the wee missus then?”
“Well company policy is that we return any chipped Fluffies to their rightful owners, and the mill that owned Abigail is still up and running so we gotta let them know she’s alive so they can decide what to do with her.”
“Wonder how she got oot anyway.”
“Could be any number of reasons Danny, maybe she was chucked by accident, maybe since she wasn’t an Alicorn they didn’t see any reason to bother with her. You gotta remember, a lot of what we know about Fluffy genetics has only really come into effect over the last five years or so, there is still a lot of trial and error. Of course now that we know Little Miss Purple here has the Alicorn gene from her mother, her owners are gonna milk that outta her for all she’s worth.”
“Sounds like good times.”
“Not even in the slightest, I’m willing to bet decent money those two foals in the river were hers and if she didn’t kill them then she at least asked someone else to do the dirty deed. All she needs to do is kill one Alicorn foal and she’ll be a blind, pillowed enfie-mare for the rest of her life, all because she doesn’t understand that her mother was one of those monsters she hates so much.”
Daniel looked down at Grape, grumpily cleaning the shit off of her foals behinds and mumbling about being ‘the bestesh mummah’. Clearly not having listened to a single word that had been said.
“Pity irony isn’t in the Fluffy dictionary. Alright well if you’ve got things sorted here, I’ll take the wee yin tae Lewis, hopefully find a good place for her.”
“Sounds good, I should be fine here, just need to lug the cages into the truck but there’s not many, you get on, cheers for the help.”
The two men shook hands before Daniel took Amber over to his truck.
“Am yu Amba’s nyu daddeh?”
“Whit? Ack, sorry no. I’m just here tae help git yer friends all rounded up. But ma pal Lewis will be wanting tae see ya, ye’ve got a pretty wee pattern on yer Fluff there, he might be able tae find ye a special-friend and see if yer babies have that same pattern.”
“Babbehs? Amba be mummah gain?”
“Again? Were some of those wee-yin yers?”
Amber shook her head. “Meanie hewd gib Amba tummeh-babbehs foweba sweepies coz speciaw-fwiend was munstah, Amba nu fink he Munstah, Amba wub him.”
“Where is he now?”
“Nu knyo, nu see him in many fowebas.”
“Well, I’m nae promising anything, but I’ll see if Lewis has him at home. If he does, I’ll see about gitten ye pair together, if no then Lewis will find ya someone nice.”
“Fank yu nice mistah, Amba hope see speciaw-fwiend gain soon.”
Amber would be disappointed when Munstah wasn’t at The Farm, but her new mate Milo proved to be caring and friendly enough that she quickly found a new place in her heart for him. The two of them had several foals together and Amber loved them all, but every now and again she would have an Alicorn foal and her mind would think of Munstah, wondering if he was alright out there in the world.
She would think of him until her final days, never seeing him again.
Plot twist, this was a secret prologue all along.
Munstah is now part of the Before The Storm series and will make his way into that storyline at some point. It won’t be for some time, Travis still has a long way to go before he reaches this point, but Munstah will arrive in time and he’ll get a proper name when we see him again.
I know a lot of people were hoping that Josef and Crimson would get their hands on Mustard’s herd, but hopefully the cold indifference of industrial abuse that Grape now finds herself in will satisfy some of you. And if not, well we’ll see what we can make of her in the future.
