Dangerous affairs pt.4 (swiftbitches)

Emma lowered her head and growled at the little intruder, “Dis am twap, need go special fwiend. Get babbehs and wets gu.” Emma looked nervous, glancing back and forth at the grass that surrounded them. Just waiting for some other grass munchers to come launching out at her and her family.

“Nu, wait! Dis nu am twap!” The poopy looked desperate, “Don’ wan go back tu hewd, don’ wan go back tu eatin poopies anymowe!” He sobbed out, dropping to the ground.

Colt cast a sorrowful glance at the weeping fluffy in front of them. He had to do something. The colt was just a baby after all and babies were made for huggies and love. “We god do sumpin speciaw fwiend! Fwuffy am just a babbeh.” He approached the colt and put a soft hoof on the foal’s back, causing Poopy to flinch.

“Fine,” She hissed, “dummie can come wif us.” Emma still looked incredibly suspicious and nervous of the little alicorn.

Colt and the little alicorn perked up immediately once Emma had given her consent.

“Fank yu, fank yu!” Poopy began to weep tears of happiness and rushed to hug Emma, throwing his hooves around the mare’s neck and bawling into her fluff. She cringed a little at the physical contact but still gave him a small, comforting pat on the back.

“Wha waz dat! Petew heawd noise fwom obew dew!” A shout came from one of the toughies that was hunting them and Emma could hear the small group all talking and yelling to each other as they slowly converged on the little family’s home.

Emma felt the panic she had been fighting rising in her chest and swelling into horrible images of her little fillies dead or even worse taken as enfie mares. Grass munchers had no problem with killing little foals. The ferocity that they had set upon Emma’s last herd with would stay with her until she died.

They had enfed pregnant mares causing them to lose all their babies, torn fillies and colts limb from limb and crushed skulls and limbs like it was just another day. They were why she was all alone, why she had to eat her special friend.

She scrambled back to the rotting stump that had served as their home for little more than a month, shoving dried grass and leaves aside to find her foals. The fillies squealed and huddled together, thinking an intruder had found them. Each was quickly yanked from the safety of their nest and tossed onto the hard ground as Emma panicked, desperate to get them and her unborn children away from there.

“Mummah!” Pine cried, still thinking they were being attacked. She was soon nudged to her feet and she could see that it was her mother that had wrenched her from the nest and was now shoving her and her sister forward.

“Wun. Babbehs need to wun.” The panic in her mother’s voice scared Pine, what was wrong? What was happening? She couldn’t see anything dangerous other than the strange brown unicorn next to her new daddy.

Colt heaved Fern onto his back, the little green fillie still too terrified to move, and ran to catch up with his family. Poopy ran as fast as he could to keep up with the fleeing family.

The yelling and pounding of soft hooves was getting closer and closer as they fled. It felt like they were right on Poopy’s heels, he could practically feel their breath on his neck.

As they ran on the yelling and shouts stopped, they had more than likely found the rotting stump and were trying to find where the sound had come from.

It felt like they had run for miles, Emma’s legs burned and her lungs felt like they were on fire. Pine had begun to lag behind and Colt was stumbling over things more frequently. Poopy was paces behind them, huffing and puffing, trying to keep up.

“Fwuffies nee-need to stop.” Colt wheezed out, finally collapsing under the weight of the fillie on his back.

“Nu, fwuffies gotta keep goin. Dey wiww ged babbehs if fwuffies stop!” Emma nudged her special friend. She hadn’t noticed the tears running down her face until they had stopped.

“Mummah, Pine am tiwed! Weggies huwt.” Pine whined, collapsing next to Colt.

“Ebefing be awight special fwiend, fwuffies got away fwom meanies.” He sat up, letting Fern slide off his back. Colt licked her cheek and wrapped his hooves around her. “Ebeyfing awight.” He whispered.

The group fell into an exhausted huddle and slowly began to drift off, the sun sinking in the sky behind them.

Colt noticed Poopy curled up a few feet away from them, staring longingly at the little fluff pile. He smiled at the brown alicorn and gestured with a hoof for him to join.

Poopy looked shocked. He hesitantly rose to his hooves and took a couple small steps towards the group.

“Come sweep wif famiwy, yu get cowd obew dewe aww awone.” Colt continued to urge the colt forward.

“Poopy can…can sweep wif yu?” Poopy teared up, he’d never been part of a fluff pile. It had been just him and a grumpy old unicorn in the poopy corner that refused to snuggle with him.

“Don’ call yuself poopy, you am not poopy.” Colt puffed up his cheeks and gave the little colt a stern look.

“Buh Poopy am fwuffy’s name.” His ears dropped at the memories that flooded his head.

“Nu, poopy am not chu name anymore it am…uh,” Colt tried to think of a nice name for the brown alicorn. He glanced up at the purplish iridescent mane and instantly knew what to name the little colt, “Beetwe! Yu mane wook wike pwetty beetwe.”

“Weawwy? Dat am bestest namesies ebew!” He squealed, hopping up and down, his tiredness suddenly forgotten.

“Shhhh!” Colt glanced at the three balls of sleeping fluff next to him.

“Oh sowwy.” Beetle whispered, clasping his hooves over his mouth. He gingerly curled up against the large blue stallion, laying his head on Colt’s fluffy side and slowly drifting off to the sound of Colt breathing.

Emma was the first to wake, the light morning drizzle having woken her. Water dripped from the leaves of the tree soaking her snout.

She stared up at the gloomy grey sky, her fur slowly becoming soaked under the mournful clouds. She sighed and sat down heavily, her home was gone, her family stuck in the cold rain with nowhere to go.

Beetle stretched out his legs and yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and slowly lifting his head to glance around. His eyes lit up when he realized that everything that had happened, the fluff pile, his new name, being accepted, it had not been a dream! His heart soared as he giggled happily, beginning to roll in the dirt.

Emma glared at the excited colt, she had lost almost everything and that stupid grass nummer was rolling around in the dirt squealing and giggling like a giddy little baby about to get spaghetti for the first time.

“Shuddup.” Emma snarled, tears welling in her eyes and mixing with the cold rain that softly pelted her. “Dewe’s nufin to be happeh about.”

Beetle tilted his head at her, watching as the mare stared longingly at the sky. He rolled up over and began to scooch up to the mare.

“Waz wong?” Beetle asked quietly.

“Ebeyfing.” She choked on her words. The cold seemed rather comforting to her at the moment.

“Wan…wanna tawk aboud it?” Beetle gave her a comforting smile.

Emma looked down at him. He was so tiny and thin, he was just a tiny baby how could anyone mistreat a tiny baby like this. She weakly smiled and put a hoof around Beetle.

“Would babbeh wike sum miwkies, yu wook bewy hungwy.” Beetle’s eyes widened at the prospect of milk, something he’d been deprived of ever since he could walk.

“Yus!” He gasped and Emma guided him to her milky place. He hesitantly latched on and began drinking.

Emma studied him as he started drinking more and more greedily, he was so tiny for his age, he was almost as old as her own foals. He was almost half the size he should be, she could clearly see his spine and his ribs as jutted out of his sides. She smiled and stroked his mane as he ate.

The rest of the little herd began to wake, dragged from their slumber by the cold of the morning drizzle.

Fern whined and pawed at her mother, “Mummah Fewn wan miwkies!” She complained glaring in disdain at the new comer who was stealing her precious milk.

“Nu, yu am big fwuffy now. Don’ need mummah’s miwkies. Mummah wiww get chu wed nummies soon.” She licked Fern’s cheek to try and comfort her but Fern jerked away angrily.

“Fewn don’ wan wed nummies! Fewn wan miwkies!” She yelled stamping her hooves. A quick smack across the snout quieted the little filly’s tantrum.

“Hush. Yu am big fwuffy now, nu cwy wike wittwe babbeh.” Emma growled. Fern lowered her head in shame, still casting small glares at Beetle.

Once Beetle had his fill and he was happily milk drunk and relaxing on his back, his stomach swollen like a balloon and a happy grin on his tiny face, Emma stood up, “Wet’s get goin. Need get nummies.” She announced.

Colt jumped up and put on a brave face as Pine’s tail wagged back and forth in an exaggerated manner, this would be her first hunt!

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Your new name is, emergency rations. . .

Now im curious if cannibal fluffies would have a taste for fluffy veal and nurse their victims foals if their own foals didnt require milk.

Those milk plumped / softened foals might be a decent transition between solids like how people do milk kibble.

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I guess it’s if the fluffy thinks it’s worth it. Producing milk takes work and energy just to go to a food source, but that also means the fluffy get a much bigger meal in the end. This would make an interesting story lol

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Alternatively they could keep some pregnant normals as milkbags for this purpose. Just keep impregnanting them and feeding them the basic non meat based foods.

Though I thnk i’ve seen a cannible comic to that effect. . .

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