“Whewe nyu homesie?”
“Am tiwed.”
“Weggies huwt.”
“Am soon-mummah, nu wan wawk nu mowe.”
Lothario seethed. What should’ve been the start to the best time of his life was being ruined by the incessant whining of 20 homeless mares, each of them carrying his young. It had been a week since they left their home and the going was slow, so slow that to a human the herd was still within driving distance. But now that all the mares were pregnant, the constant needing to stop and rest was at an all-time high, even for the typically effort-avoiding Fluffy.
The herd could still see the roof of their old home after two days because every two minutes, one of the mares would decree ‘soon-mummah am tiwed’ and lay down, taking about 5 or 6 other mares with her who were also conveniently tired and stopping the whole herd from moving. After waiting for far too long, the first tired mare would be ready to move again, and the herd would start walking, only for a different mare, despite having just rested, decreeing the same ‘soon-mummah am tiwed’ and lay down as well, starting the process over again.
This had gone on for seven straight days.
Sandy could see Lothario’s patience wearing thin, part of her pitied him because even she was getting annoyed with the constant snail pace of her friends. Most of her though was happy he was suffering, it was his own damn fault they were in this mess and he had to suffer right along with them.
More than once Sandy or another mare had caught Lothario trying to sneak off in the night, so Sandy came up with the idea of placing Lothario in the middle of the Fluff-pile so that all the mares could hug him together when the dark-times came. Since most of the herd still thought they were in love with Lothario, they jumped at the idea and made sure that the ‘Speciaw-Stawwion’ was suitably smothered and loved every night.
Out of the 20 mares in the herd, only Sandy, her best friend Amber the orange earthie, Scarlett the red Alicorn and Betty the white unicorn were over his bullshit. They missed their old home, they missed their daddies, and even the thought of being mummahs didn’t save them from the very real issue of noticing that it was getting colder and colder with each passing day. Snow had started to fall on the day they left but it was only in the last couple days that it was starting to settle properly.
And they still hadn’t found good shelter.
“Fink Fwuffies shouwd weave hewd.” Betty whispered to the four outliers. “Gu bak to daddehs wivout dese dummehs?”
Sandy shook her head. “Mummahs maybe dummehs, bu dey stiww fwiends, nu can weave dem wiv Wothawio.”
Betty scowled. “Hmmph maybe San-dee nu can.”
“Wha gun du?” Amber asked with more than a little worry. “Fwuffies need find homesie befowe cowd-times.”
Sandy looked up at Scarlett, looking to her intelligent friend for guidance once more. Scarlett was one of three Alicorns in the herd, the others two were Mabel, a black and white stripped mare and Jodie, a yellow mare with red spots and a red mane. Mabel was Betty’s sister but that didn’t mean jack-shit to her right now, Mabel was smart enough to know Lothario was full of shit, but she didn’t care, so long as her babbehs were safe. Jodie meanwhile was in full babbeh-madness, this was to be her first litter and she was overjoyed, too blinded by her tummeh-babbehs to see what an idiot Lothario was.
So right now, Scarlett was objectively the smartest Fluffy in the herd and Sandy needed her more than ever.
“Hmm, wook, twee pwace am cwose. Maybe be safe dewe.”
Sandy looked over and sure enough, there was a small nest of tree not too far from them, not the best protection but the canopy would keep them better sheltered than the open air. Sandy took it upon herself to run up to Lothario and tell him about the trees since he seemed to be walking away from them.
“Um, Wothawio?”
“If dummeh mawe say she tiwed den Wothawio am weaving yu hewe.”
Sandy flinched but she had come to expect that from the horny idiot. “Jus wan say, dewe am twee-pwace oba dewe, be gud shewta fow babbehs.”
Lothario looked over to the trees that he hadn’t even noticed and snorted. “Wothawio knyo bout twees, whewe dummeh mawe fink hewd guin. Weave Wothawio awone, nu wan dummeh mawe dummeh pwans.”
Sandy scowled at him wondering what the fuck she ever saw in him to begin with, and fell back to join her friends. A few moments later they noticed the herd started to drift towards the trees as Lothario led them to their potential new home.
Lothario might have been an idiot, but at least he wasn’t too proud to ignore a good idea, just egotistical enough to take the credit.
Lothario was furious, how could his great plan have gone so wrong? When he heard his father, Don-Jon, talk about the hundreds upon hundreds of mares he enfed, Lothario believed that it be a lot simpler than this. Unfortunately for the rowdy stallion, while his father had told him a great deal of what happens before the pregnancy and what happens after, he neglected to tell Lothario about what happens during, mostly because Don-Jon was rarely around for that part.
But not knowing any better, Lothario blamed his predicament on the mares, he didn’t know how but this was clearly their fault, life was so much better before they arrived. He was free to where and when he pleased, he was clean and well-rested and he would always find a willing mare to enf when his lumps hurt. Now he was tired, his Fluff was matting with dirt since he never had time to preen himself anymore, and a harem of mares meant nothing when he wasn’t allowed to enf any of them.
More than once he looked at a couple of the less attractive mares, them losing their foals would mean less and he’d get rid of the pain in his lumps. He never did though, as much of a prick as he was, his natural instincts to grow his herd overrode his need to mate. If only just.
Thankfully the nest of trees that he spotted and hadn’t been pointed out to him by anyone else provided a small amount of relief since now the herd had some cover and a mild amount of warmth as the trees shielded them against the wind. It wasn’t great, but it would do.
Most of the mares immediately gathered in a little divot in the ground and started forming a new Fluff-pile, Sandy, Scarlett and Amber set about gathering some nearby leaves and berries for the start of their new food supply – Scarlett had to bat off more than once hungry mummah who didn’t understand that everyone was hungry, not just them – and Lothario… well he tried to sneak off without anymore noticing.
Ever vigilant of her reluctant new leader, Sandy spotted him. “Whewe Wothawio guin?”
“Jus gu find nummies, be bak befow dawk-times.”
“Dey am nummies hewe, nu need fow Wothawio tu gu.”
“Need mowe nummies dan dat, cowd-tomes be hewe soon, Wothawio need find nummies fow aww soon-mummahs.”
The majority of the mares who still believed in Lothario cooed at his seemingly selfless act, a wave of ‘wub Wothawio’ and ‘hab bestesh babbehs fow yu’ called out from the Fluff-Pile. Sandy knew better, she could guess that Lothario was trying to escape, but at the same time she also knew he was the only chance they had of a consistent food supply.
“Ok, bu nu be wong, soon-mummahs need daddeh hewe fow babbehs.”
“Wothawio be bak soon, nu weave babbehs awone.”
And with that, Lothario ran off before anyone could stop him, Sandy looked over at her friends as they sighed contentedly at the sight of him. They were too lost in love to see what a cheat he was.
She joined the outside of the Fluff-pile and sat down with a heavy heart, still blaming herself for bringing Lothario into their home.
True to his word, Lothario did return, in fact most every day he would leave and return with food, though very small amounts. He would always have a story about the cold-weather taking his energy or a sneaky monster stealing the food before he could get it, always resulting in several of the brainwashed mares starting a hug-pile on their brace saviour.
Betty was unconvinced. “Wothawio am wying, Bet-ee knyo wha wying Fwuffies wook wike.”
“Wai Bet-ee say dat?” Scarlett trusted Betty’s intuition but she wanted to know what her thoughts were.
“Wothawio neba hab nummies, awways say he nu cawe bout tummeh-huwties, jus wan soon-mummahs be ok. How can Fwuffy nu hab nummies fow so many bwite-times? Bet-ee nu wike dat.”
“Fink Wothawio am steawing nummies?” Sandy asked, starting to think the same thing.
“Fink he find wots of nummies bu num dem fiwst befowe bwing wittew nummies bak.”
“Fwuffies need teww udda mawes.” Amber loudly whispered to the group of four. “Den dey see dat Wothawio am bad Fwuffy.”
Sandy shook her head. “Nu pwoof, udda mawes fink Wothawio am bestesh stawwion, nu wisten tu fwiends. An we aww soon-mummahs, nu can find pwoof tiww babbehs come.”
It was sadly true, they had been at the tree-place for just over a week now, by now walking was a chore if not fully impossible for some of the mares, they couldn’t leave the Trees Place to find out what Lothario was up to even if they wanted to.
“Jus need wait.” Sandy told her crestfallen friends, every day the reminder that they were stuck and reliant of Lothario for almost everything was another pain they had to endure. “Wunce babbehs hewe, can fink of how tu find pwopa homesies, maybe eben weave fwiends.”
“Weave fwiends?” Amber caught herself before she shouted. “Nu can du dat.”
“San-dee wight.” Betty countered. “Dese dummehs nu wan see da twuth, Wothawio am bad Fwuffy, gib aww mawes speciaw-huggies wiv nu cawe bout habben speciaw-fwiend. Aww dese dummehs cawe bout is dummeh tummeh-babbehs.”
Betty was crotchety in her old age but she was right, to most of the mares the idea of being a mummah meant more to them than their own safety and wellbeing. Betty had had a number of foals and even saw several of them become parents themselves before she and Mabel were bought for Johnny and Gheorghe so she wasn’t too fussed about the foals inside her right now. Amber and Scarlett both tried to be happy, Amber had never been a mummah before, Scarlett had had a couple of litters before her purchase, and both were excited about the prospect of having babbehs. But Sandy could tell their mummah songs weren’t as upbeat as some of the other mares.
Sandy hadn’t sung to her tummeh-babbehs at all, she felt no mothering instinct to them whatsoever, it upset her because she did want to be a mummah one day with a special-friend she loved. She once thought Lothario would be that special-friend until all of this happened, now she felt nothing but contempt for him and nothing at all for her foals.
Betty continued her tirade. “If Fwuffies hab tu weave den Fwuffies gu, need put sewf oba fwiends nyo at cowd-times hewe.”
The four of them nodded in agreement, though they each hoped it wouldn’t have to come to that, Amber and Scarlett waddled away to chew on some wet leaves while Sandy and Betty looked over over the rest of the herd, Lothario was currently enjoying the warmth of several mares cooing over him while some of the outliers forced the two brown mares to lick their poopie-places clean so that their home smelled good for the upcoming babbehs.
Sandy sighed at the sight. “Nu wike dat udda mawes tweat bwown fwiend wike poopies, fot daddehs teech dem nu tu du dat.”
“Fwuffies gu bak tu dummeh fings wen stwessed, wike Bet-ee say, aww dey fink bout is wha dey fink is gud fow babbehs. San-dee knyo wha funny doh?”
“Wha?”
“Bwown mawes num poopies, hab mowe nummies dan udda mawes.”
Sandy smiled at the cruel irony, while no-one was starving yet there had been more than a few cries of ‘tummeh-huwties’ over the last couple of days. The brown mares might just turn out luckier if only to serve the humour of an unusual Sky-Daddeh.
Sandy felt Betty shift next to her, she looked over at her white friend and saw a serious look on her face.
“Wha Bet-ee duin?”
“Bet-ee finkin, if San-dee, Bet-ee, Scaw-wett an Amba weave hewd, du San-dee fink we take babbehs?”
Sandy was shocked that Betty would ask such a question, but thinking about it for a moment, she understood where her friend was coming from. They were already struggling for food as it was, trying to find enough to feed themselves and four lots of foals in the middle of winter would prove more than a little difficult.
“Nu suwe, Amba an Scaw-wett hab heawt-huwties if hab tu weave babbehs, bu awso hab heawt-huwties if babbehs gu foweba sweepies.”
“Babbehs gun gu foweba sweepies eben if Fwuffies stay wiv hewd. We nu am weady fow dis many babbehs, an Wothawio cweawy nu cawe enuff tu git enuff nummies fow aww soon-mummahs. Need be weady tu wose babbehs, nu matta if Fwuffies stay ow gu.”
Sandy knew Betty was right, but even if she couldn’t find it in herself to care for her foals, she didn’t want to see her friends hurt over losing theirs, even if it was inevitable.
“Fwiends cwoss dat bwidge wen dey come tu it, need fink bout nummies fiwst.”
“Wha am a bwidge?”
“Nu knyo, heaw daddeh Joh-nee say it. Bu stiww, nummies fiwst.”
“Dat nu as ee-see as San-dee fink, wook ousside.”
Sandy look out at the fields surrounding them, while their nest had been mostly protected by the trees, everywhere around them was covered in a blanket of crisp, white snow, it wasn’t likely that Lothario would even try to go out now, Sandy doubted his favourite mares would even let him go out.
Betty lowered her voice so only Sandy could hear her. “Dewe am stiww sum nummies hewe, nu gud bu can keep Fwuffies guin. Nu enuff tu shawe wiv aww hewd, if San-dee wan, Bet-ee gib hew sum.”
Sandy paused for a moment before shaking her head. “Nu, Bet-ee fink udda mawes am dummehs bu San-dee nu wan tweat dem wike dummehs. Sum of dem stiww fwiends.”
Betty smiled. “San-dee am tuu nice, dat wai yu stiww fwiends wiv Amba an Scaw-wett afta dey enf yuw speciaw-fwiend.”
“Wothawio am nu San-dee speciaw-fwiend.”
“Bu yu wan him tu be, wunce befowe. Den he enf aww yuw fwiends.”
“Ek-zak-wy, Wothawio du da enfing, nu fwiends. Nu can bwame dem. Bee-sides, Bet-ee enf Wothawio tuu, San-dee nu angwy at hew.”
Betty scoffed. “Bet-ee nu cawe bout bein mummah gain, jus wan gud-feews wiv pwetty stawwion wun mowe time.”
The two mares shared a laugh before a chilling wind blew through the trees, shivering them where they sat.
“Dis am gun be hawd.” Sandy said, mostly to herself. “Bet-ee am wight, babbehs gun gu foweba sweepies.”
“Bet-ee nu wan be wight, bu Bet-ee see cowd-time babbehs befowe, vewy wittew of dem make it tu hot-times. Fwiends awweady stwessed an hungwy, hewd may need du meanie fings if des-pa-wate enuff.”
Sandy nodded, knowing Betty was right once more. Unfortunately for both of them, desperation came much sooner than either of them anticipated.
This was meant to be the final chapter but as I planned it out I saw a lot more unfolding than I realised. Probably could’ve done a little more here but I figured containing the harsher elements together for the next chapter would work better.
Honestly I might get a forth chapter out of this, depending on how things turn out.
