Brookshire Farms: Bluebell [by Maple]

You are Bluebell, and you are In Charge.

Mister Sam put you In Charge of the herd, which at first you thought was just being Smarty. After a long talk with him, you learned that being In Charge was very different. It sounded like being Smarty but without any of the good stuff, but Mister Sam explained that he gave you Responsibility, which was a very big word you tried to remember. It meant you did things you didn’t want to so your herd didn’t have to do them. It gave you a good feeling in your chest to do these things, something Mister Sam said was called Pride. You liked Pride. So you did your best to be different from your Smarty brother.

Smarty slept in the middle of the fluff pile at night, where it was warm and safe. You slept by the door, where it was cold but you could keep watch.

Smarty ate first so he could get the best bits before anyone else. You ate last so you could be sure that everyone else got their fair share.

Smarty was a mean bully who made sure everyone knew he was better than them. You made sure their needs came before yours.

You were laying alone in your nest by the door, watching the other fluffies nap. It was lonely, sometimes Candy or Parsnip would sleep with you but Candy had foals to care for right now and Parsnip was snuggled up with Strawberry and her foals. That was fine, they weren’t In Charge so they could sleep where they wanted.

After a few more moments of watching your herd, you rested your head on your hoof and let your eyes slide shut. You needed to make sure they were all safe and settled before you slept. That’s what Responsible fluffies did.

Something was making you cough, waking you from your nap. You gasped for air, but a thick, acrid substance filled your lungs instead. You hacked and coughed, wiping tears from your burning eyes. Why couldn’t you see? It was so dark. Did you sleep that long?

The smell suddenly registered. Smoke. Something you had smelled before, at human camp sites and on mean monsters. In burning dumpsters.

Smoke meant fire.

The barn was burning.

Your legs reacted before you could think, running blindly into the barn and slamming you into the stirring fluffpile. The other fluffies squealed and kicked as you clambered over them, icy fear running through your veins. It wasn’t until you heard their screams that you remembered your job. With a deep breath you steeled yourself, pressing your hooves into the rough wood floor of the barn. You were In Charge! This was your herd! And you needed to protect them!

You slowly turned around, surveying the barn. Your herd was scrambling to join you at the back, the mummahs seemed to have grabbed their foals. That was good. With a gulp, you looked at the flames consuming the closed barn door. Fire wasn’t something you were too familiar with, but you knew it was a hungry monster. It would eat anything it touched, including fluffies. Not something you wanted to face.

Think! You were no smarty, but you were smart! “FWUFFIES WISTEN TO BWUEBEWW!” you cried, trying to get the attention of your panicked herd. “WOOK FOR HOWES IN WAWWS!!” you ran past Candy huddled around her foals, wide eyed and breathless. No time to get them all in line, you needed to find a way out! Parsnip at the very least seemed to have heard you and ran the other direction.

You found one of the holes Mister Sam patched, a bit of scrap wood covering a very fluffy sized hole. You had gone around with him looking for these, making sure they were all secure. Something you regretted now, as your hooves slammed uselessly against the nailed down board.

“PAWSNIP NU FIND HOWE!” You heard the wail behind you, and your heart sunk.

You did this. You failed your herd.

You watched him return to the hyperventilating Strawberry, watched Wasabi stumble and fall, Breezie spinning in panicked circles… You failed them. The smoke was so thick you could barely make out their colorful forms through your tears. You hacked and coughed. You were the worst In Charge, the least Responsible. You let Mister Sam down.

With a crack, you saw part of the door give. A sliver of blue sky was visible for just a precious second, blocked by the ever hungry fire. A beast that ate anything it touched, trashies, plants, fluffies, even humans.

And you realized you had one last thing you could do for your herd.

With a battle cry you raced to the flaming doors, the despairing wails of your herd pushing you forward.

You were In Charge!

You slammed your horn into the wood, feeling it give as the flames engulfed you. The pain was indescribable, but you were Responsible! You screamed as the fire consumed your fluff, begging your hooves to push a little harder. With the sound of splintering wood just barely audible over the roar of the flames the door gave way at the same time your legs did. You were in agony, inside and out. As you slipped out of consciousness you just hoped you did enough.


You were in charge!

I liked that story. Makes me feel for these little cuties. A fluffy’s life is a hard life.


The world needs more Bluebells but the world doesn’t deserve more Bluebells.