Sometimes a good deed shines in a weary world….
But evil still lives.
Bitter Fruit Part 2
By Wumps of Steel
Another alley, another box, another feral fluffy family on the verge of death…
“Why mummah nu gib miwkies tu babbeh?!” A tiny gray foal cried, pounding her hooves against her mother’s deflated teats. “Mummah nu wuv babbeh nu mowe?”
“Nu babbeh, nu!” her mother replied, clasping the foal against her chest fluff, “Mummah wuv babbeh wots and wots!”
“Sniff…Den why nu gib miwkies tu babbeh?” the foal sobbed. “Babbeh hab wowstest tummeh huwties!”
“Mummah su sowwy Babbeh! Meanie smawty come an’ take aww mummah’s nummies.”
“Meanie smawty and tuffies say dat if mummah nu gib nummies den dey gib mummah’s wastest babbeh fowevah sweepies!”
“But babbeh am suuuu hungwy! Babbeh nee miwkies!!!” the foal cried, desperate to make her tortuous hunger pains subside.
“Mummah know babbeh. Mummah know.” The mare said, stroking the foal gently. “Babbeh, twy and gu sweepies nao, mummah fin’ nummies somehow…”
“Wuv ou mummah.” The foal said, cooing and snuggling her head against the mare’s chest fluff. “Mummah sing mummah song fo’ babbeh?”
The mare smiled. “Otay babbeh, mummah sing fo’ babbeh.”
“Babbeh happy”
Tears stained the little green mare’s cheek fluff as she started to sing. “Mummah wuv babbeh, babbeh wuv mummah, Mummah wuv babbeh, babbeh wuv mummah. Babbehs am fo’ huggies, fo’ huggies an’ wuv. Mummah wuv babbeh, babbeh wuv mummah…”
The little foal was fast asleep. The mare gently placed her in the corner of their boxie house and covered her with a discarded napkin.
“Mummah be back soon babbeh.” she whispered. “Hab tu gu and twy fin’ nummies.”
The mare knew what she had to do. Her foal wouldn’t last another day without milk. She had to find nummies, but where? It had taken her three days to gather the small nummies pile that the smarty had stolen from her.
How could she ever hope to find enough nummies in one night? Was it even possible?
“Nu… Nu… Nu” she whispered to herself. “Nu can tink bout dat nao.”
She didn’t have the luxury of such anxieties.
Out into the darkness she had to go.
The thought of the “Sky Daddeh” her owner used to talk about sometimes briefly crossed her mind.
She didn’t really understand what a “Sky Daddeh” was but if he helped hungry fluffy mummahs then she was all for it.
Slowly and softly she crept through the alleyway.
All was still and all was quiet….
“SCREEEEEEEE!!! SCREEEEEEEEEEE!! SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!”
The ear shattering cries of a foal shattered the stillness of the night.
The mare froze, a puddle of urine forming beneath her.
Then another voice reached her ears.
A familiar voice….
A voice that made her blood run cold.
The SMARTY!!!
“DUMMEH MAWE!!! TUMMEH BABBEHS COME OUT WEN SMAWTY SAY TUMMEH BABBEHS COME OUT!!”
The pungent scent of blood and feces drifted through the air.
The mare’s mind screamed at her to run or at least to hide, but her body refused to listen. She was completely paralyzed by fear.
Minutes passed as though they were hours…
Then she heard footsteps and voices and they were getting louder!
“See tuffies, smawty du wat smawty wan. Nu dummeh mawe gon teww smawty nu tu gib speciaw huggies!”
The smarty, he was coming this way! What was she going to do? The smarty was sure to give her bad special huggies and forever sleepies!
But before the mare could react, something grabbed her, dragging her into the shadows.
“EEEP!”
A hoof covered her mouth, silencing her cries.
“SSSHHH” said a voice.
The mare trembled with fear as the smarty and his tuffies passed by.
As their voices faded into the distance, the mare spun around, eager to thank her savior.
But there was no one there…
Whoever or whatever had saved her was gone.
The only thing in sight was…Nummies!
Laying on the ground were some of the best nummies the mare had ever seen!
The mare squealed with delight as she excitedly placed the nummies in her fluff. Now she could make the bestest milk for her foal!
She raced back to her boxie as fast as her little legs would carry her. But as she approached the box she skidded to a halt.
A familiar cold shiver ran down her spine.
The napkin, the one she had covered her foal with, was laying crumpled outside of the box. The mare’s heart sank.
“Babbeh! Nuuu!!” the mare cried, tears beginning to stain her cheeks. “BABBEH!! Where am ou babbeh!?”
“Why mummah woud?” answered a tiny voice.
The mare felt a wave of relief wash over her. Her babbeh, her last babbeh was alright! Nestled safe and warm in a pile of jet black….fluff?
“Mummah,” the foal said sleepily. “Babbeh wike nyu fwiend. Make bestest nestie. Babbeh am su warmsies!”
Relieved but confused, the mare settled down and began to eat.
When the foal woke up, she would have all the milk she could drink.
This was the bestest night ever!!
But that’s the funny thing about life for a feral fluffy pony. Good things, (though rare) do happen.
But they almost never last.
