I must post more about the retribution herd.
You are blue, but you’re really not.
That’s just what you call yourself now, a reward for your service to the just cause of saving this herd. That’s what everyone tells you, after all. The smarties respect you, the herd knows your name and your special friend loves you most of all.
None of that helps. It seems every other fluffy in this tribe can take the life of another fluffy thoughtlessly, but you just have a hard time doing it. You shouldn’t, you have been on crusades before, but everytime you would just rather another fluffy kill them, and you usually do.
You just don’t know how they do it. Fluffies are made for human affection and to love others. But you know that some fluffies are mean to others because of how they look, and you are no exception to that.
“Huu huu, fwuffy am scawed, wan speciaw friend and huggies. Nu wike hidie game no mowe.” You hear a voice, quivering.
The fluffy trying to hide in the bushes to the right of you. You being a sneakie knew the correct way of walking through the leaves, and the other fluffy, a bright neon purple, is very clearly bad at it.
“Pawm nee gu find hewd, but smawty id fowevah-sweepies from munstah hewd. Pawm nu know what du. Huu huu.” The leaves rustle loudly as he paces around, anxiously waiting for some better idea to pop in his head.
This fluffy very obviously poses no threat to you, but judas and the smarties have rules about these crusades.
“Dese fwuffies wiww nevah undewstand us, and dey wiww nevah know teh twuth. Dey wefuse teh twuth. So, to sabe ow hewd, dey aww must be given foevah-sweepies before dey du it tu ow hewd”
Judas meant everyone, even this sorry fluffy. Still, you couldn’t let down any of the smarties or the herd. So, like many times before, you prepare to hurt.
You sneak your way closer to the coward, closing in slowly to make this as quick as possible.
You grab a stick from the ground and ready it to hit one of his seeie-pwaces. Other sneakies taught you to do this. Makes everything easier when they are wailing from pain and not running from or fighting you
“Fwuffy scawed, wan mummah, wan herd, wan hoomin da-”
You quickly sprint towards the fluffy and before he knew it, you jam the stick into his eye. He reals back wildly, screaming in pain.
“WOWSTEST SEEIE-PWACES OWIES. Fwuffy nu can wooksies ou odda eye. Hewp fwuffy!” He continues to screech.
You could kill this fluffy, but you knew you wouldn’t. He was terrified and helpless, and you just can’t kill a fluffy that looks like how you feel sometimes.
Luckily, you didn’t have to, his constant screaming means that he will be an easy target for the toughies that are sure to hear it. He won’t be long. You’re not killing it.
You press on, as you remeber the toughies said 3 fluffies escaped this way. You just need to find them and stop them from escaping and you can go home and play with you special friend.
You stalk through the bushes with that in mind, the two left ahead somewhere, and with how your moving probably not too far ahead. The screaming stops abruptly as you her faint squelching in the distance.
Better him than you.
Not even 5 bushes away, you hear a mare singing her song to her foals. A normally joyous occasion, but one you are here to solemnly breakup. You sneak closer to the noise and find the mare with her children under a small crevice of rocks. You ready yourself for more violence, and remind yourself of Judas’s words.
“Dere nu west fow flwffies wike hewd. Den, no odda hewd wiww west so wong as we suffah”
You never rested. Been fighting to live your whole life when you were with other herds. You had to prove you were useful. And when it was convenient you were left out to dry.
Speaking of left out to dry.
“Mummah, bebbeh nu wike being ow hewe, can bebbeh come inside cavesies wid mummah?” a sickly green foal looked down from atop the log.
“Nu wowstest bebbeh, yu wook fow munstahs and wet mummah and odda bebbehs know. Nao keep wooking, yu sabe mummah and bebbehs”.
“Otay, mummah, bebbeh wubs yu”
The foal was given no response.
Such sights no longer infuriated you much anymore. You’ve become mostly detached from what you do for this herd. Fluffies like her serve only to remind you of why you are doing what you are doing in these crusades.
You sneak close to the rocks, careful of your surroundings and where that mare is. Another step closer and you here another, much more high pitched screech.
“Screee-mummah, somefing in bushies” the green foal yelled from atop the cave.
“Huh?” The mummah looks up as you slink into the bushes slowly. You slowly paw at the ground.
“Dere nu ting in bushies, stoopie bebbeh. Nao be quite, wavender feeding odda bebbehs.”
“Huu, but bebbeh saw somtin-” You grab and silence the bebbeh as fast as you can, hoof covering its mouth. You put the foal in the hole you just made and close it with a rock. Quiet chirps and cries were heard from under the rock, but otherwise perfectly silent.
You close in on the mare, unaware of the danger it’s child tried to warn it’s family of. You are near enough to the mummah that her snores are audible, so you get a little closer until you are face to face. Looking at the mare and her pwetty bebbehs, you can’t help but feel annoyed at their behavior. As normal as it was to disregard fluffies like you and that foal, you knew it wasn’t just.
You pick you hooves up and aim for the mares hoof. Readying yourself for more of these vile things, you slam down hard onto the mare. She yelps loudly; sending one of the foals off of her back and the others covering their heads, grimacing from the noise.
“Gibe bebbehs tu bwue nao, or fwuffy get mowe sowwy-stompies!”. You demand, needed to get the mare away from her foals first.
“Huu huu huu, pwease, nu huwt bebbehs, onwy wittwe bebbehs”
“Bebbehs nao or stompies nao, fwuffy choice” you yell again, stomping closer to the mare.
“Bebbehs am fow huggie and wub, nu fow poopie fwuffy. Weave munstah” the mare tries to stand off at you, ready to defend her foals with her bum leg even.
You understand. You’ve felt this before. You know what happened when you tried. You know what happens next.
You quickly grab one of the foals from her, hoof useless after that hit you gave her. Easily the foal slips from her graps and rolls roughly across the ground and you drag it over to you.
“Screeee! Nu, pwese gibe bebbeh back tu mummah. Bebbeh nee miwkies! Nu fow hurties! Hewp bebbeh!” Cried the mother, screeching for her foal as you press a hoof on the back of the foal.
“Mummah, pwese, nu wan be stompies. Wan mummah, WAN MUMM- SCREEEEEEEEE” You step only as hard as necessary to get and understanding.
“Bebbehs on top of cave nao! Bwue nu ask again” You yell at the mare. Putting them up there might just be easier for the next step.
“Otay, Otay, bebbehs gu upsies on cavsies” she brings the bebbehs on top of the cave slowly.
You on the other hand shove the mare out of the way and put the squishy bebbeh on top of the log. Still alive, hopefully. Those smarties always liked it better when the foals were left alive.
You turn around and rush the mother and quickly smash into her other hoofs one by one. Being quick makes the process easier after all.
"Weggies hurties! nu wowk? Why weggies nu work? The disabled mare sits, worrying herself into a loud, attracting frenzy. She’s just getting herself killed.
You keep the foals up on the rock and grab the flying babbeh and the squishy bebbeh on top as well, as alive as they were. You also get the green one out of the hole and take yet another step you have treaded before but take pride in instead of monstrous shame. Fluffies that notice you and are like you are special according to the smarties. You make sure to put him up on a diffrent rock and mark it with a muddy paw print. It’s a direct signal to the others that this bebbeh is special. The other fluffies you cover with a leaf. Your hoof hovers over the leaf for but a moment, but once again you can’t crush these screaming talkies. After all, killing foals is someone else’s job, and they just got some other fluffy to do it.
“Bebbeh nu mobe, ow fwuffy cwush.”
“O-ootay” they shudder, wetting themselves.
You leave, running further down the way, looking for the last fluffy. He had to be around here somewhere, and is probably screaming for his heard. You just had to listen.
“Nu! Nu huwt smawty! Smawty nee hewd, whewe awe dey?” A loud noise was heard to your left. Well, the listening worked.
You run straight ahead at the noise. The screaming smarty meant that either a friend was already chasing him or something else was. You were faster than most fluffies, so you could out run something else before the smarty could.
Finding the smarty, you tackle him to the ground with a loud thud. You stomp the smarty to get it to stop moving.
“Dewe yu awe, bwue finawwy stop yu.” You say, victorious in your take down.
“Bwue! Bwue! Dat smawty is munstah! He bad fwuffy” June, another sneakie said. She seemed panicked, which is new. She’s usually pretty detached about these things.
“What smawty du, June?” Her concern meant yours as well. What did this thing du?
“Wook! Dis id what smawty du tu bebbeh whiwe herd goe forevah sweepies” June, through tears, pulls a baby out from her fur, and you notice it leaking.
Oh, so that’s it then
You didn’t have to kill him. You really didn’t.
But you will, just this once. A munstah like him deserves everything that you can give him.
You take your time. June helps you stomp his hooves and so you can stab his eyes in with sticks. You personally stomp into his lumps, breaking them and making him scream endlessly. You keep smashing, and smashing, and smashing. You won’t stop. You can’t stop. They didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop them.
You look up, June’s terrified eyes told you everything you needed to know. You can stop now, the fluffies head now not. Fluff, blood, grey matter, and bone flung about different places. You really went to town on him.
Gave him everything you didn’t then.
“Wet’s just gu back tu hewd? June Nu wowwy bout bwue.”
“Otay, but June wowwy anyway”
Also do you all prefer second or third person bc I’ve seen both and want to know which people prefer.