The thunder roared, breaking the long silence of the evening so far, scaring the fluffy in the midst of her hunt for food. At this point, it’s been nearly two days since she’s had something to eat. Two days since her foals were last able to eat anything, their chirps and cries still haunting their mother as she searched desperately.
“Whewe nummies? Nummies? Come to fwuffy nao pwease… Babbehs nee’ miwkies…”
The mother looked frantically as she walked ahead, she had to find something at least. The night was soon to fall, leaving her children not only hungry and alone, but cold as well. As this thought crossed her mind she picked up the pace despite her fear of being caught by a human or worse. Her hooves smacked against the turf as she galloped through the park as fast as she could.
She keeps up the pace as she runs up the small hill and onto the paved walkway. As she continues to dash, the thunder booms once more, making her run even faster despite nearly being out of breath.
“huff… huff… Babbehs… Nee’ mummah… Mummah… Nee’ be stwong… Nee’ find nummies soon…”
She finally comes to a complete stop, catching her breath and observing her surroundings. As she looks to the right, a large gazebo catches her eye, a man dumping a plate into a nearby trashcan. Surely, food would be there if anywhere, a dream worth chasing after.
Silently, the mother approaches and creeps into the nearby bushes as she overhears the tail end of a conversation.
“Don’t forget to tie up the trash, I want to be able to rent this place out again next year.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Don’t want racoons or some shit getting in the trash. I get it.”
“Good, I’ll go start the car up then.”
The mare looks through the small gap in the bushes, her green coat helping to conceal her amongst the flora of the area. She observes the person tying the trash bag up, it looked to be heavy, a good chance for something to eat, although the mare would take whatever she could get at this point.
As the person walks away, the mare feels a raindrop hit her face. Soon, the rain would be coming down hard, forcing her back to her shelter without any food. She springs out from the bushes and runs under the shelter of the gazebo. She stares at the plastic trash can, racking her mind at what to do. She walks around the trash can, noticing the wheels at the back end of it. Her mind quickly pieces together a hasty plan to claim her meal.
“Otay mummah am gon’ get nummies!”
She turns around and backs up as close as she can to the trash can. She musters as much of her strength as she can, and bucks. The can begins to fall forward and the mare runs out of the way as the can falls to the ground and the lid flips open. The red drawstrings of the black bag give the mare yet another idea, and she walks up and bites down on the plastic drawstrings. She backs up and pulls as hard as she can, the bag starts to slide out slowly.
One last pull allows the bag to come free, ripping a side open, saving her the trouble of getting in manually. In a rush, she runs to the open side and starts to feast on anything she can bite into, moving aside the styrofoam plates with her head. The thunder breaks the silence once more, scaring the focused mare and forcing her inside of the trashbag.
The only light she has comes through the tunnel she made through the waste, but this gives her yet another opportunity to find more food. She roots around further and finds half eaten food that was tossed away amongst a sea of napkins and plastic silverware poking into her soft body.
The rain becomes more intense, the mare worries about her foals as she peers outside at the now collapsing tunnel. She continues to feverishly root through the food, scarfing down as much as she can. At this point it doesn’t matter what it is. She just needs something, anything, to make milk for the foals.
As the storm rages on, a man walks inside of the gazebo for shelter. He shakes his umbrella off and closes it fully then takes a seat on one of the benches. Looking around, he notices the fallen trash can. A loud groan is heard as he walks over to it and observes for a few seconds.
“Christ. Do people not pick up after themselves anymore? Probably some mutt getting into their trash or something. Blegh.”
He reaches down and shovels and trash that had fallen out back inside. Meanwhile as the mare feasts further, from the corner of her eye she notices the tunnel collapsing further, she turns away from her meal and trudges through the trash to make her escape. She feels her self falling down as she tries harder to get out, but she’s now completely covered as her escape route collapses finally, sealing her inside of the bag. The plastic lid slams shut as she cries out for help.
“HEWP FWUFFY!!! BABBEHS NEE’ MIWKIES!”
Just as she yells, thunder rumbles and the man walks back to the bench and grabs his umbrella. He walks to the opposite end of the gazebo and opens his umbrella to shield himself and jogs away, sealing the mother’s fate unknowingly. She cries out once more to no difference, nothing can help now. No one will hear her, and no one will take care of her foals.
As she cries away, her children walk about their shelter aimlessly chirping away anxiously, their hunger growing stronger by the second. A grey pegasus foal slows down and starts to close its eyes as its body shuts down, giving up its hopeless struggle. The siblings crowd around the malnourished corpse in an attempt to warm up, but the rain doesn’t let up. The cold drops still made their way through the bramble, soaking the already delicate foals. Their chirps continue to grow louder as they become colder and colder, still patiently waiting for their mother to return and feed them.