“Soon mummah nu can move good… weggies nu wowk good…”
Bonko observed the mare’s legs wiggle about as she announced her immobility. It was clear her pregnancy was coming along to its climactic stages, her womb inflated to a grotesque, balloonish degree to hold the brood of foals she’d been growing. The clown fluff had never seen a pregnant fluffy in person, though it still gave him some joy to know tiny lives were nearing their final stages of growth within the mare. “Soon mummah gon make bestes’ babbehs!” Bonko grinned, prodding his nose in delight, getting a smile from his temporary housemate. He had meant to continue on his poster-following journey for the past couple days, but he’d found himself occupied with making sure his new friend was okay during her pregnancy. Surely, it wouldn’t be too long before he could continue onward, maybe with his pretty mare friend and her foals in tow.
“Bonko hewp soon mummah?” The fluffy clown asked, standing up from where he sat in his corner of the sizeable box. The mare squirmed a bit in place, seemingly dictating whether she could attend to the desired matter herself, though she still couldn’t get her feet completely on the ground. “Soon mummah nee’ nummies, so babbehs can hab bestes’ miwkies… Bonko go find soon mummah nummies?” The mare pushed herself up haphazardly into a sitting position, looking over at Bonko as she rubbed a hoof against the side of her stomach. The clown fluffy nodded in affirmation, giving himself a saluting honk on the nose. “Bonko go find bestes’ nummies fow soon mummah fweind and soon mummah babbehs!”
The alley was the same as usual. Still stunk of piss, still felt like neglect, but Bonko still found traversing it to be a fun adventure. But this was no frolic through the rubbish bins, no, this was a high priority mission. The fluffy clown had to locate a sizeable snack for his friend, to be sure that her babies would grow up strong and healthy. “Nummies gotta be in hewe somewhewe…” He thought to himself as he rummaged through a toppled bin, trying to evade getting his gloves in any bin juice that might leak from the bottom. The smell was awful, too, but at least Bonko’s big, red nose somewhat nulled the stench. He was just about to dig a bit deeper into the can, when…
…rrrrRRRUFF…
The noise caused Bonko to nearly enact his namesake on the bin’s top, though thankfully it was too high for that to happen. With a bit of hesitance, the fluffy clown shuffled out from the bin, where he came to the sight of a rather tall dog. The breed was indiscernible, though it was obviously quite old, as evident by its slightly wobbly stature, greying fur and visible ribs. To any other fluffy, the sight would strike a fearful chord; dogs had the power to wipe out almost an entire herd with little to no understanding of their actions. To Bonko? A barkie monster was more like a barkie friend. Back in the circus, he’d met many dogs, whether they were domestic ones brought in by visitors, or puppies used in the shows to ramp up the cuteness factor. Those dogs were usually quite friendly with Bonko, often jumping around him playfully whilst he would giggle at their antics. If those dogs were good, it was only logical to apply that logic to any other dog.
“Hewwo, bawkie mistah! Ou’ nyu fwiend?” Bonko called over to the elderly hound with a grin, looking up at it as it approached slowly, teetering from side to side with every step. No response came, only a light, guttural growl, but the fluffy stayed friendly. “Bonko am wookin fow nummies fow soon mummah fwiend. Bawkie mistah hewp Bonko find nummies?” The clown fluffy waddled slightly closer to the dog, ever optimistic about this new encounter. The general atmosphere was somewhat standoffish; as Bonko sat there with a smile, the dog came closer, staring down the fluffy with dark, deep, old eyes. There was silence, not a single fluff-muddled word being spoken. Then, the dog bent its head to give the fluffy a sniff, causing him to giggle at the tickley stimulus. Then, as quick as it came (which was actually rather slow), the dog ambled off, leaving Bonko with no bodily reminders of the visit. Whether that was out of mercy or knowing that he was too active for the canine’s aging body to put up against is anyone’s guess. “Oh, bawkie mistah go bye-bye? Otay! Bonko see bawkie mistah latew!” The fluffy clown grinned as he waved the dog off, happy to have had some interaction with it. Then, with a pep in his little steps, Bonko waddled off, continuing his search for food.
Night had fallen since Bonko had left the pregnant mare in the box by herself. She must have been waiting for him all day! Luckily, he had quite the meal being dragged her way; a half-eaten box of takeaway food, consisting of a few chips and some rice. Surely, this would sustain both her and her coming babies. “Bonko am bestes nummy findah! Find bestes nummies fow pwetty soon mummah an hew babbehs!” The fluffy clown grinned to himself, carefully dragging the box of food inside of a plastic bag towards the mare’s location. One more turn of a corner, and he’d be making her feel like the happiest fluffy alive.
“Soon mummah fwiend! Bonko hab bestes’ nummies fow-“
The fluffy clown was midway through that thought when he realised the scene had changed quite drastically since he’d last seen it. The box was still there, though the front had been bashed a bit. Leading out from the box was a long, fresh trail of blood, which tapered off the further it was from the source. Bonko, reasonably shocked, dropped hold of the bag, scampering over to the box with worry. “Hewwo? Am soon mummah fwiend otay?” He called out, poking his head through the box; nobody was inside. The fluffy clown whined a bit, observing the surroundings. On closer inspection, there seemed to have been something of a struggle, as accompanying the blood was a couple of loose dog teeth. Stray bits of fluffy were scattered about, and what looked to be the squished remains of a breeched foal lay hidden amongst the blood. Poor Bonko, he wasn’t used to this much boo-boo juice, not even after the incident where one of his clown friends didn’t catch him right after a particularly daunting trick. But, as was common for his kind, he was stupid, and in his stupid head he justified this crime scene in the stupidest way possible;
“Huu… soon mummah fwiend hab babbehs aweady… weave wibbout Bonko.” The poor thing had quite the despondence in his voice. He’d hoped that the mare would stay, so they could go back to the circus together, and she could get a nice house away from the streets. But, there was none of that now, he supposed. She probably had a better place already in mind for where she’d raise her adorable new babies. With a sigh and a quiet sniffle, ignorant of a set of paw prints that tracked blood off in one direction, Bonko waddled off, unknowing squishing yet another well-hidden foal corpse on his way out of the alley.