The winds blew especially hard that night one April at the MiniMeadows microfarm. Though the equinox had passed, snow still clung to the ground from the past few weeks- and the nipping winds were not helping the current residents, feral and tame.
Within the confines of the old, splintery barn sat about a dozen or so stalls containing at least fifty micros clustered in an array of piles- nuzzling on top of one another in defiance of the cold. Some were huddled by their families, and others by their respective mates- but some, less fortunate fluffs were left bare and alone. Not by any means of colorism- the farmer made good sure to eliminate that to promote proper raising of young. Rather, some fluffies were left alone since the cold took those close to it. Fluffies like #35- aka Snap-Pea.
Snap-Pea (or SP as the handlers called her) had foals of her own despite not being assigned- though her gentle demeanor and relative ease of handling gave her a pass by the farmer and the others. Sadly, being a first time mother- she had not expected to give birth just before winter peaked; nor for her mate- Stallion #5- to disregard her and her brood once born. Without support , other fluffs easily took advantage of her- often by stealing food from her and her babies. It was not long for them to get picked off- some by starvation, others the cold, and one by fluffies themselves. Looking over her shoulder as she hugged herself- all she saw was all the warm fluffs piled together; especially the mummahs and babbehs who survived.
Her moping got cut short by a short but loud bang- as a rotted plank in a far corner snapped back; revealing a set of eyes in the dim infrared heatlamp. A feral. Worse. A pack of them. Seems the weather brought out the riff raff as a small family of regular, but wild fluffs enter- ruffling through the hay on the ground and half open kibble bags. The micros meanwhile, atleast those who could see- scattered from one side of their pen to the other- stampeding over each other in the process. The frantic wails and boo hoos of the injured however, manages to invoke all likes of panic as micros adult and young crush and throw one another in search of supposed safety from the âmunstahsâ. Unknowingly- they only lure the perpetrators closer, finding the hay and kibble too dull and not to their normal regimine.
SP tucked under some hay- naturally camouflaged by her dark green hide, and saw a large yellow Stallion look over the stall. âHewwo dewe wittwe fwuffies. âou aww wook su smaww anâ tastyâ it remarked- looking back to its compatriots. One mare, carrying foals on her back butted in- âStahp tawkinâ idiot. Am hab tummy owwies anâ fwuffy gotta gib nummies tu fwuffyâs bestest babbeh!â
The two bumped into each other- and managed to buy the micros some time as another loud snap grabbed everyoneâs attention. This one though, came from Mr. Han the groundskeeper- whipping crop in hand.
Having heard the commotion from his post, Han bent his head down as his lantern glowed the definitions of his face. âMUNSTAH!â The ferals cry as some scatter back away from the stables and toward the open barn door. Two manage to run under Hanâs legs- one stumbling from fear and freshly falling snow. Another two are less fortunate, receiving a respective kick to the snout and whip to the back as they exit- leaving the mare and yellow Stallion. âWhat exactly is going on here?â Han asked, slapping his crop gently on his palm.
âFwuffies hab tummy owwies anâ cowd. Needed shewtah-â the stallion stammered. âSo you thought you could eat our merchandise then? Well, I canât allow for that Iâm afraid.â Just as he finished, the Mare booked it for the door,only to get pinned between Hanâs foot. âPwease nu gib fwuffy owwies, fwuffy just wanted wawmff anâ nummiesâ she wailed as the Stallion bolted towards Han. In a swift downward strike to the nose, Han drew blood from the yellow devil and gave a swift dropkick out of the barn door- freeing the mare to follow.
The micros were still all in a flurry as Han spoke over them all. âAlright, alright calm down you guys- problem has been dealt with. Looks like they came in from there-â gesturing towards the newly formed hole. As Han made way over it, dragging an empty crate- he heard a familiar peep and a crunch. He stepped on a foal. Thankfully not a micro- way too large- mustâve been from the mare. âAh well, one less in the worldâ he thought to himself as another chirp nipped his ear. Looking around, he noticed a small brown foal squirming around amidst the hay. âCrap this oneâs still aliveâ.
Picking it up, he gave it a proper looking at in his gentle hold. âPoor guy- surprised he made it this far given the color⌠Sorry little guy but-â his hold turned to a grasp as his impromptu execution got cut short. âSTAWPâ
Looking down, SP was against the corral- hooves sticking out. âNo gib babbeh forevah sweepies! Es-Pee take it Mistah Hawn! Will be good and quiet babbeh!â Han scowled- knowing the foal would just get in the way of the operation. Itâd grow, and need to eat atleadt ten times what the micros eat- let alone if it would even latch. âNumberâŚthirty fiveâ Han responded, noting her tag- âThis isnât a micro baby- you wonât be able to raise it, let alone feed it properly. Iâm sorry girl, I know youâve been hurting since your foals butâŚâ he paused, noting the mare break down in tears,slumping down.
âUgh fine. Passed my pay grade anyway.â He plucked the foal by its nape and gently plopped it in the pen. It easily was almost her size, but she relented and nuzzled up to it parading the cheeper with all sorts of songs. A swift crop slap to his palm, Han cut in. âNote this though girl- should that fluffy get out of hand and wild like those ones I just kicked out; Iâll have to deal with it like I did them, understand?â The mare nodded fiercely, clutching her new addition by his neck. âGood. Now excuse me- I gotta take some of your mates to the doctor. Those ferals scared you guys good.â
So that cold night, SP nuzzled her new babe, feeling warmth and another heartbeat for the first time- noticing Mr. Han take a few of the other fluffs to the big housie next door and the familiar glare of Stallion #5 from a few corrals over.
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<3
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I really want to see SPâs former mate lose his dick to splinters.
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Uh oh . Stallion #5 better not do anything shitty
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Please friend, just a scrap of paragraph! A small sample of formatting to ease my weary eyes!
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Hehe yea sorry tyoed this from a foreign source other than my computer.
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