Ebony the Fluffy Filly
- Lesson Lasso, Mission Mayhem
Springs in Georgia never lasted long, with the heat crawling up the necks of everyday people and clinging to their fabric; eager to snatch away any cool breezes as if wind was life itself. The hot, muggy weather became more and more relentless as time went on, with the soft days of 60 degrees Fahrenheit being swamped by humidity and oversized mosquitoes. However, despite heat taking over early May, nights in Metro Atlanta still managed to smooth over a soothing balm over the City in a Forest. It was during one of these cool flights that the neighborhood Alicorn, CoalHeart was gliding around on âPony Plugâ Duty.
As the Alicornâs velvet-covered horseshoes gently tread against the tops of roofs, he used his Onyx-colored horn to emit a soft, bioluminescent sapphire glow. The silver-lilac dye in his dreadlocks alit in a soft glow as well, and he ran across the creaky, leaky ceiling of a Joannâs Craft Store at full speed before spreading his wings and leaping as high as possible. As CoalHeart spent the night gliding around the sky, he couldnât help but think about how he wouldâve never imagined himself doing this 4 years ago. The memories of him and his Mummah being dropped off by a random Alicorn who looked eerily like CoalHeart himself at a now-defunct shelter for both humans and fluffies were always lingering at the back of mind. Who knew that when he grew up and decided to stay with Mr. Chinedu and Mr. Davonte, that his life would take such a high-flying turn?
It was after his first birthday that his new parents had introduced him to gardening. Outdoors was always a fun place to play, and he had so much fun learning how to vermicompost fluffy poop and grow berries and vegetables for the few fluffies who would come by to visit. What was especially fun was that Mr. Davonte and Mr. Chinedu had founded an afterschool program for middle and high schoolers in their own home that was still running until this day. So of course, indoor greenhouse gardening took off as well. CoalHeart had so much fun hanging out with the kids on the block, many of whom he learned standard English and how to read from.
It was on one of those fateful late evenings when CoalHeart was goofing around with a few of the younger kids, playing fetch in the house- which they were explicitly told not to do. But hey- Mr. Davonte and Mr. Chinedu were outside taking a smoke break; so what they didnât know wasnât gonna hurt them. Right? Well, the chewed up ball that had stuck itself against a cracked open door seemed to think otherwise. As CoalHeart had went to pick the ball up with his mouth, he noticed that the door had extremely bright purple LED lights and a profusely damp scent seeping from its entrance. CoalHeart peered his head down the creaky stairs, as even taking a step forward emitted a loud groan. The last thing CoalHeart did before returning the ball to his friends was using his magic to pull it shut; thus closing itsâ secrets off to the kids in the home.
Looking down to focus on his current venture, CoalHeart swooped past a crossroad and started lowering his legs towards the ground. His hooves trod against cracked asphalt, occasionally jumping in order to avoid tripping. Sure enough, he had made it to his second-to-last stop for the night. Trotting up the stairs to the door, he rang the doorbell and took a step back.
âWHO the hell is Up dis late at goddamn night- Oh! Hey there, baby!â
A young lady with silk-pressed hair wrapped up in curlers had opened the door, answering with a sweet gap-toothed smile. CoalHeart couldnât help but match her grin, as the combined scent of Blue Magic and stale bong water put him at ease.
âThanks for always opening up at this time, Miss Kenya. Youâre that best!â
âAw, no problem honey. Honestly Iâm surprised youâre up this late, itâs almost 10 p.m.!â
âNah, itâs alright! Besides, I gotta top secret mission of my own to handle. Trust me, youâre doing me an extra favor.â
CoalHeart shuffled around in his purple passenger bag and pulled out his precious cargo: a cheap burlap satchel full of 10 buds of marijuana. Kenya snatched the Maryjane away from the delivery fluffy, but not without pulling a few 20 dollar bills from her bra and placing a kiss on his forehead. CoalHeart bashfully blushed and bowed in front of the lady. Before he turned away, Kenya had whistled to the Alicorn and tossed him something. Catching it with his magic, he took a closer look at the small box- a package of throwing poppers.
âItâs for your secret mission! Have fun!â Kenya winked.
CoalHeart giggled, and with a nod of thanks, he set off back into the night, galloping nearly full-speed down the cracked sidewalks and jagged streets of downtown Atlanta. The Alicorn jumped and used his back legs to ricochet off a crossing light, spreading his wings to glide and catch some drift. After rounding a few more corners and flying past a quiet crossing, he was able to gallop past an empty highway to the back of a graffiti-ridden Fluffmart. The graffiti mural showed a smiling little Black girl, no older than maybe 2 or 3, holding a brown Unicorn fluffy with a white mane braided into multiple three-strand twists. They were depicted with matching neon clips and metallic hair baubles; the lower right corner of the mural being signed âRest in Power: LaToya the Fluffy and Babygirl Amari. February 14th, 2021- January 27th, 2024.â
It was around this time that CoalHeart sniffed the air and ended up smelling a notoriously familiar scent: the stench of fermented beans and acorns. CoalHeart gagged at the nefarious stench, clopping a hoof over his snout. As he turned though, he still couldnât help but sigh in relief. Trotting up the steps leading to the back entryway of the Fluffmart was Fannie Lou and her Troop for the Poopie Patrol Rescue. CoalHeart jumped over the railing and landed right in front of the herd, bowing in respect.
âMissus Fannie Lou! Mama! Itâs good to see yâall again!â CoalHeart sneezed, then grinned. âSeems like yâall really overdid it on the Poopie Paste, however.â
âBettah safe Den Sowwy, Bucko.â Willow snorted. âNow câmon, whewe da rescues at?â
At that moment, CoalHeart trotted up to the door and used his back right leg to buck a rhythmic beat on the door. As soon as he could hear shuffling in the background, he put his hoof down and rustled through his purple passenger bag to pull out a hastily stuffed envelope with another $20 bill. Sure enough, what sounded like a grouchy, middle-aged man with a quickly greasing and receding hairline came to the door. Deep, black rings encircled his bloodshot, watery eyes and he grinned a wide smile full of gold and silver grills. Wiping the sweat off his brow, the chubby man slammed the fluffy crate down, triggering an unusually quiet wave of âhu-huusâ from the crate.
âMister Blackwood, itâs a pleasure to see you again. I know I already paid up front, but hereâs an extra thank you just for your cooperation!â CoalHeart tossed the envelope and extra 20 up to the man who caught it.
âAlll-right. Anything else?â
âYessir, Mr. Blackwood,â Fannie Lou dangled her pouch of pennies before tossing them to the shop owner. âHow many radish and kale seeds can we get for this amount of pennies? A human acquaintance of ours said itâs about $3.00 worth.â
As Mr. Blackwood walked back inside to grab some seed packets, Imani had taken the liberty to step up to the fluffy carrier and open it gently. As she did, a total of 4 fluffies hesitantly walked out. Two were Brown with their manes and tails clipped short, and the others were a muted green and a muddy reddish-violet. The lower-grade fluffies also had their manes and tails clipped short, and Imani took stock of the fact that the muted green fluffy was slightly pregnant. Still agile enough to walk and run, but would probably need some extra supervision.
What really surprised the herd, however, was a whiny, garishly orange fluffy foal with a mane that could only be described as⊠Neon Vomit Green. It was almost bioluminescent under the dim back door light. He was pouting, sniffling, and constantly stamping his hoof on the ground out of irritation. When he wasnât doing any of these things, he seemed to be walking around in circles all while wearing a particularly nasty scowl. It was very clear that his behavior was off putting to the âpoopieâ stock in the group; they made a pointed effort to stand as far away from the snotty-snout foal as much as they could.
Muttering under his breath, he grumbled âSmawty nu am Baddie foâ gib ugwee Bwackie bruddah Foâebah Sweepies, huu-huu⊠now Smawtie Citwus gotta go lib wit Dummeh Poopie-Bwackie Hewd, huuuuu, huu-huu.â
Ignoring the off-putting aura that she was picking up from the budding Smarty, Imani tried to place a hoof of comfort on his head to calm him down. Big Mistake: Citrus yelped and jumped on the back of the pregnant green fluffy, causing her to wince. As the red-violet fluffy panicked and picked the little Smarty off the other fluffyâs back, he glared right into Imaniâs eyes and blew raspberries directly at her. It was a struggle to hold in her disgust, but at this point? The brown, coily orange-maned mare had dealt with much, much worse as far as insolent fluffies went. She focused on her mission: getting feedback from the other rescued fluffies.
âHewwo. Muh name am Iman-knee. We fwom BwownsTown, and we gonna make suwe you no get tun into Piwwow Fwuffs. By any chance, you habe names?â
âName?â The pair of brown fluffies glanced at one another. âWe am called âPoopiesâ anâ âShittah-Stockâ. Das what da handle-wewes cawled us.â
âOtay, cool. We uh, we can wok-shop dat.â Imani awkwardly cleared her throat; turning to the low-grade fluffies. âHow âbout you two?â
âMy name am Olive.â The green fluffy interjected. âSpecial fweind name is Cedah. Uhm, Olive being wecent Soon-Mummah wonât be pwoblem, will it?â
âNope! We am backup, no needa be scawed!â The brown, green-maned mare known as Comfrey stepped up to the mother, giving her a reassuring hug. âWe be outta hewe soon enuf. No wowwies.â
âAlright! I actually started getting Burpee Seeds sent to our Fluffmart, and the edible flowers have been a huge HIT! So I got plenty of sunflowers, marigolds and poppies in here. But donât worry! I got, collards, I got arugula, I got turnip greens, and I even got some watermelon! Oh, and tomatoes, if you fluffs can figure those out.â Mr. Blackwood burst through the door loudly enough to shock the fluffies. âAw, my bad. Here yaâ go, snookums. Take care, Ms. Fannie Lou.â
âNo problem, sir. If you donât mind me asking: you donât have any feral herds bothering your store, do you?â Fannie Lou cocked her head to the side, her cracked horn glowing in curiosity. âWe havenât encountered any on the way here yet, but we saw a lot of carcasses and a few weakened chirpies on the way here.â
âYeah, thatâs definitely for the best. Ever since the Atlanta Police Department settlement, Animal Control has finally stepped in and started putting down FluffWar(farin) Brownies©ïž, a lot of those nasty herds are finally taking themselves out.â Wiping his hand over his face, the balding man sighed. âDunno why those dumbasses though that burning millions of taxpayer dollars on a âFluffy Extermination Divisionâ just to shoot K9s and write off Friendly Fire checks under âInjury while on Dutyâ was ever gonna stop this infestation, not to talk ofâŠâ
At that point, Mr. Blackwood glanced at the mural whilst teary-eyed and sniffled while looking away from the fluffies. Ms. Fannie Lou was the first to wrap her forelegs around the old man, with all of the departing fluffies being next. Citrus was the only fluffy who was sulking and shrinking himself into Cedarâs fur as much as possible, but that just got a chuckle out of Mr. Blackwood. The middle aged man gave one lad wave and a nod of farewell, and started to walk through the doorway.
âAlright yâall, get the hell outta here. Olive, good luck with your litter. Cedar, keep being strong. And as for you two,â He pointed at the brown mare and stallion one at a time. âYâall are starting a new chapter in life, so yâall are gonna need new names: Petunia: not Poopies. And Burdock: no more ShitterStock. I hope yâall can forgive me for those past names, but ultimately? Itâs up to yâall to walk in that path of forgiveness. Now, be Fruitful, and donât be in no rush to Multiply!â
That final line got a roaring laugh outta the herd of fluffies, and with that, Mr. Blackwood picked up the now empty hutch, nodded his head goodbye, and shut the door. The herd calmed down their laughter and quickly walked down the stairs, making sure to watch their step. As soon as they all touched rocky, cracked ground, Fannie Lou took a headcount of all of the fluffies that were with them. Afterwards, Imani clopped her hooves onto the ground, gathering everyoneâs attention.
âOtay. Before we head out, we neeâ to pwotect awl-selfs, just in case.â Pulling one of the heavy jars from her sling, Imani sighed heavily. âYâall prolly awl-reddy notice, buh we am covahed in sum-ting called âPoopie Pasteâ. It pwotects us fwom Meanie Smawties who may twy to give us boo-boos and scawy, mean Enfies.â
âSoooo, we just put da pasty stuff on? Seems faiw enuf.â Petunia shrugged.
âJust be cawful! It am smeww weally, weally, bad!â Comfrey said, throwing a hoof over her nose.
ââSmell bad?â We am Poopie Fwuffs who was gonna become LittahPawls if it wasnât foâ you bwave Fwuffies. No shit, we awe sâposed to smell bad!â Burdock cackled excitedly.
And with that, Burdock was scooping his hoof into the jar and splattering copious amounts on both him and Petunia. Imani handed the other jar to Cedar, who took care to rub copious amounts on Oliveâs back and the glands near her vaginal opening. Cedar even made sure to put some of the foul paste over the genitalia of Citrus, much to the tiny foalâs indignation. As paitient as the muted violet-red fluffy was, he was very clearly getting fed up with the up-and-coming Smarty.
âNuu, nuu, NO! No am poo-poo, pee-pee Bwakcie-Dookie Fwuff. No wanna be foal-coal poopy! Hate ugwee Dookie Fwuffs. Dey am in-su-BOW-DEE-NATE- ACK"
Needless to say, Burdock mightâve taken the liberty of âaccidentallyâ chucking a huge lump of the paste smack-dab into Citrusâs mouth. Seeing the foal accidentally swallow it just to pucker up as if he had tasted a lemon for the first time in his life was a sight to behold. It got a roar of cackling from the herd, especially from Cedar, who needed it the most. As soon as Citrus decided to hide back in his fur and pout in shame, the troupe got moving again. Their objective was not to meet back up with Eggshell, Willow, Chestnut, and Aloe to see how many abandoned or dying foals they managed to recover.
As they trekked down the rough, cracked sidewalks, Peanut and Corncob galloped out of an alleyway, quickly intercepting Fannie Lou and Imaniâs herd. They had panicked looks on their faces, pained with exhaustion and worry. Imani ran up to meet them, now worried for her friends.
âIman-knee! Iman-knee! Atwana Pee Dee is layinâ out twaps to intercept Fwuffy wescue mission! Dey used a fake filly to entwap in stupid metal box!â Peanut panted.
âCâmon, we no hab much time!â Corncob nudged his brother Peanut to his left, and they both co-operated in turning the cart that they were harnessed to and running.
âWell, shyt. It no am mission wit-out sumtinâ goinâ wong. Comfrey, CoawHeawt, Imma need backup. You witâ me?â Imani called.
âYes Mama!â
âSay Wess!â
âMs. Fannie Lou, you shud go ahead and escort the cuwwent wescues back to BwonsTown. Help dem get settled in. Truss me, Dey no need to be apawt of awl dis chaos.â
âAre you sure you can carry out the rest of our objectives on your own?â Fannie Lou asked, a strain of worry in her voice.
âMmhm! Jusâ focus on gettinâ da wescues back to da main hewd. I got dis!â Imani nodded.
With that, Fannie Lou emitted a warm, purple UV glow from her cracked horn, and made sure to spread out her crooked left wing, sheltering the other rescue fluffs. With their growth being significant stunted, Fannie Lou was able to shield them all with said wing and slowly started trotting along. Citrus was fast asleep on top of Cedar, which put the elderly fluffy at ease so that he wouldnât cause any more trouble. In the meantime, Imani and her section of the herd ran off after Peanut and Corncob, tripping and leaping over cracked pavement and broken planks of wood at fluffy breakneck speed.
Nighttime at the BrownsTown villa was going surprisingly well for Ebony and her newfound herd. Miss Rosalie was kind enough to gather them around an old pile of glowsticks in order to setup what was called âthe Coldie-Fiyahâ. With the small pile of sticks wrapped together with a small bit of twine, their teacher had told them multiple stories of her and her siblings when they were growing up. She told wrestling stories about her sister Atzi the Hoof Warrior Pegasus, who took after her parents and participated in competitive Fluff-Fighting. She also talked about her brother Tunas, a Unicorn who got a job as security guard because he mastered magic just enough to give pickpockets wedgies. But most importantly, she emphasized that no matter how rough things got, or how much things changed, that they always made time to love each other.
Personally, Ebony admired how close the family still was, in spite of the fact that they all lived very different and unique lives. Maybe someday, she could become a fighter who protected her siblings from the meanie-heads that Ms. Fannie Lou talked about- that ones that chased her and her Mummah into the forest from times past. She was also curious about the fluffies that turned poopies into compost, and would then shape them into rounded spheres of dung to place seeds in them. Could she do that, too? The letters on the wall from torn up magazines that were taped on haphazardly- would she learn what those are as well? The brown, coily-haired fluff was so excited that she was having trouble sleeping.
Quietly crawling her way out from underneath the pile, she crept upwards out of the underground den and trotted up the tunnel towards the lovely, starry sky. The moon (at least thatâs what Ms. Rosalie called the big white ball) was only showing half of itâs face tonight. The sparkling stars twinkling in the black blanket of the sky felt so warm and inviting. Suddenly realizing that she really needed to pee, she toddled down to the moss pit near one of the large crevices of the tree root and tinkled away. When she was done, she shook her fur and then a familiar silhouette caught her eyes.
âMissus Wosalie?â
âOh-OH! Eb-knee! How awe you?â
âEb-knee no can sweep.â The brown filly sighed, trotting over to her teacher. âIt am soooo much to leawn tomowwow. What if Eb-knee no good at any of it?â
âNawl, Eb-knee, now das nonsense! Of cowse you find some-ting you gud at. Das what school am for. Pwease no ovah-tink it, otay?â Rosalie chuckled.
âNo âovah-tinkâ, while am at Fwuffy-Skool? Sounds I-won-ik to me!â Ebony giggled.
That joke seemed to land really well with Rosalie, because the sienna colored Unicorn burst out laughing while holding her stomach with her front hooves. Sitting back up, she wiped the tears from her eyes and said âEb-knee, you way moâ cleva dan you gib ya self cwedit foâ. You gonâ be aâight. O-tay?â
Ebony looked up into the sky and sighed.
âO-tay.â
âHnnnnnggg! Stupid. Fwuffy. Cage. Am. So. STOOPID! RAAAUGH!â
To say that Eggshell was frustrated was an understatement, to say the least. He had been banging against the shitty, wire metal cage that had managed to trap him for well over an hour. The fluffy had managed to use the sheer, stubborn force of his body to force the cage to scrape against the rocky dirt, propping itself against a falling wooden wall. Truth be told, Eggshell was wary of trekking into the abandoned construction zone when he heard the cries of what he thought were the cries of a foal that had just learned âtalkiesâ. However, hearing the voice cry out âEep! No wanâ Enfies! Cheep! Pwease no poo-poo on me!â plus the occasional âMummah, pwease wub babeh and gib milkies.â was absolutely heart wrenching for Eggshell to hear.
So lo and behold, Eggshell tentatively tiptoed his way through the dilapidated construction zone, crossing fallen caution tape and long-abandoned mossy bricks in order to approach a large hill of rocks, splintered planks, and dried weeds with an opening inside. As soon as he approached the opening of the cage and picked up what seemed to be a small foal, a large part of the rocky roof caved in and shoved him into the enclosure. He did his best to grab onto something soft and weirdly lumpy, assuming that it was the poor foal that he was meant to rescue. However, as he rocked back and forth in the cage in order to try and trip the lock and escape, it turned out that the piles of rocks and weeds had started to fall through the cage, allowing for the soft moonlight to peer through. It was in that moment that he had realized that the so-called fluffy he was holding was no talkie foal at all; but instead, an amigurumi fluffy plush with a robotic sound-box on the inside.
To say that Eggshell was humiliated beyond belief would be an understatement. His sister had always warned him about letting his empathy get in the way of his street smarts, and for all of those warnings, what did he have to show for it? This, apparently: being stuff in a weird-ass contraption of a wired trap that wouldnât come loose no matter how hard he bucked. Looking at the crochet fluffy plush, he couldnât help but feel some resentment bubbling up. One of the reasons why Eggshell insisted on going on these rescue missions was a way to pay it forward for being such a shitheel against his siblings (more specifically, Cacao) in his foalhood. The fact that he had to be checked a few times well into his adolescence didnât make him feel great, but by the time he finally became a fully mature fluff, he had learned to forgive himself and promised to atone for his past actions. A level of self-reflection that he knew that most fluffies would never consider in their lifetime.
But at times like these? He couldnât help but wonder about how little his âBestest Babeh Guiltâ was paying off. It wasnât his fault that his mother had indirectly favored him in so many little ways that were both passive and indistinct: making sure she placed him to her teats while he was half-asleep to feed first, putting him on the top of the brood pile despite him preferring to be in the middle, using her remaining colostrum to soften his kibble, or even taking him out on sleepless nights to teach him about the edible violets and wild onion shoots. Eggshell was sure that she had those other bonding moments with his other siblings in their own special way, right? Besides, it was very clear that no matter how much he bullied his brothers and sisters growing up, Cacao was always his Fatherâs favorite. No matter how gobsmacked he was by his runt brotherâs affinity for singing and dancing, weirdly enough, he couldnât bring himself to envy him- he very clearly worked hard to get exactly where he was, and he made sure to bring his family with him.
Which led an exhausted Eggshell to heaving on his furry back while staring up at the flicker of a far-off street lamp: why was he still doing this? Itâs not like he hadnât contributed enough to the everyday upkeep of BrownsTown; despite moving into the forest at behest of Chestnutâs invitation 4 Coldie-Times ago, they didnât have a regular chef that knew how to safely start small, fluffy-safe campfires. A fluffy who was a campesino at heart, he put his gardening and yard work skills to good use, and scavenged old discarded pots and spoons from Atlanta citizens and his auntâs bodega in order to setup a fluffy-safe cooking station. He cooked weekly, often every few days, for the many fluffies of BrownsTown during the Fluffy School season. Combine that with the myriad of donations that he pulled in with the many family connections that he had, and contributions were plenty.
âStoopid Bestest Babeh Guilt.â The baby blue speckled fluff kicked the crochet fluffy away. âIf bwuddahs am awl-Weddy fo-gibe me, and sissies nu am foâsake me, den why it am sooooo hawd foâ Fwuffy to fo-gibe demselfs? Why I gotta act like I got some-ting ta pwove? I. Bucking. DONâT!â
Eggshell mustâve kicked the cage one too many times, because sure enough, the mechanical wailing of the crochet fluffy had activated again. Close to tears, the baby blue fluffy kicked at the fluff out of frustration. Whether he was lashing out at his guilt, at his inability to escape, or at himself for being so naĂŻve that he ignored his gut and got ensnared by his Guilty Hero Complex. Regardless, Eggshell was fed up, and he was this close to permanently writing off rescue missi-
âEGGSHELL? Eggy-Beggy, is dat you?!â
âÂĄÂżCHINGA SU MADWE, WILLOW?!â Eggshell shouted.
âHol-wee sheet, yâall. We finally found him! Wes go!â
The frantic, uneven clopping of Willowâs herd galloping towards Eggshell made the baby-blue fluffy start shedding tears. It wasnât until Willow looked through the bars of the cage and smiled that he felt safe enough to totally let loose and sob at full volume. Through his blurred vision, he saw the muted red mane of his longtime friend, and could barely make sense of her commands under his garbled cries.
âEggshell, câmon! I said mobe the booby twap plushy up; itâs blocking da doâway! Dese dows is diffwent; yaâ gotta push âem inward in order to getchaâ out.â Willow groaned. âAloe and Chesnut, help tip da cage ovah all-weddy!â
âO-tay , o-tay , we heaw yaâ, damn!â Aloe rolled her eyes, trotting to the back of the cage.
âWeddy when you awe, Aloe!â Chestnut shouted, claiming the opposite side.
âOtay erryâ fluffy, on thwee!â Willow shouted; trotting up the hill of cracking wood and pushing her back hooves against the cage sidebars. âOneâŠTewâŠTHWEE!â
HNNNNNNNGGGGG!
Eggshell, finally sobering up and realizing that his friends of all people were trying to rescue him, decided to take some initiative of his own and figured it was time to help them out. He took a deep breath, and threw himself against the unguarded side of the cage- hard. A little too hard apparently, because with the combined strength of him and the other fluffies, he managed to roll the cage over onto itsâ back. As the fallen fluffs recollected themselves, he tried to run towards the weird slanted exit; only to start hyperventilating when the door still wouldnât trip open.
âOh no, oh no, Eggsheww am Tooootal Idiot! Eggsheww done BUCKED UP! Eggsheww-â
âEggsheww am UH GENIUS!â Chestnut crowed proudly. Before Eggshell could even process what was going on, Chestnut pushed the door down as if it was the gate of a moat, and a rush of woody, cigarette-tainted air rushed through the opening of the cage. âNow câmon, get outta dere!â
â!No MawmesÂĄâ Eggshell yelped. âWes bucking Go!â
Eggshell managed to kick the bait fluffy out of the cage shortly before running out as quickly as possible, tripping, and somersaulting down the alleyway into an abandoned rack of beer cans. Everyone laughed at the crash, and Eggshell couldnât help but unfurl his body and let out a giant bellow. As he got up, he trotted back up to Willowâs herd and joined them in a group hug.
âTanks foâ keepinâ Eggshell outta Eggshellâs âdummy Cabeza de Huwevoâ. It am much-needy weality check, yâknow?â The baby blue fluffy giggled.
âTell me âbout it.â Willow rolled her eyes. âChess-nut ended up psyching out waaaayy wowser dan you did when he was twapped, so no be too hawd on yoâself, fam.â
âHey, dat ainât faiw tuh Chess-nut! Chess-nut ack-shwee had weal bebbehs in ouw cage; so dat just am make me tweak out moâ. Donât put it all on me!â The brown fluffy with the mossy green mane then threw his front hooves up in defense. âIf I no woll ovah on accident and almost smushed one of dah bebbehs, you wouldnât be free eithaâ. âMember dat.â
âWait, new bebbehs? WEAL Bebbehs? Let Eggshell see!â
Aloe had turned around to show two fillies clinging onto her back. One was a straw-colored earthy filly, and the other was a deep, Jade colored unicorn. It was easy to tell that they were malnourished and neglected; the sheer amount of poop and spots of dried blood they were covered in was a classic sign of fluffy abuse. Eggshell gently lifted their tails to make sure that their genitalia wasnât bleeding or leaking out; as that was a telltale sign of Enfie Babbeh abuse. Thankfully, nothing sinister was leaking from their private parts. As he cooed at them and gently lifted their lips to check for a gum infection, he noticed that they had canines that were unusually sharp.
âHuh? Dese bebbehs⊠Aloe, Chess-nut, Willow, habe you wun into any Cawny-vowe Fwuffs wecently?â
âHuh?â Willow cocked her head. âActually now dat yaâ mention it, we only saw a small hewd, and Dey look way too sweepy to chase aftaâ us for wong befowe they started thwowinâ up Sicky-Wawas. It was suuuupah gwoss!â
âAlso: we wan into JohnJohn anâ Dey say dat poison-bwonies was put down aftah Animawl Contwoll took ovah fwom dah cops. âPaw-went-lee, dah Piggies in Bloo ovah shot Dey idea of âFwuff Contwolâ and ended up shooting wayyy too many Housie Fwuffies and Dey Human Mummahâs and Daddehs.â Willow sighed heavily. âJohnJohn eben said Dey got his fwend Amawi and her Fwuffy. Nevah met eithaâ of dem befoâ, but hope Dey hab peace anâ solace in Sketti-Land.â
âYeah, but am strange, cuz twap-boxes dat awe still out hab âAtwanna Pee Deeâ badges on dem. Anâ twuth be told, Dey be lookinâ pwetty bwand new. So watâs da deal dere?â Aloe asked.
âHuh.â Eggshell picked up the crochet talkie-fluffy and took one last long look at it before tossing it to the ground. âWelp, eidah way? We bettah get da hell up outta here den. Where am-â
âEGGSHELL! Tank Sketties you alibe!â
Seeing the rickety fluffy-drawn cart turn the corner lifted a weight off of Eggshellâs shoulders. As Peanut and Corncob rushed up to the fluffies, the abandoned construction zone was awash in an odd UV glow of a flickering purple light. Willow, who was the leader of the herd, waved her comrades along towards the light. CoalHeart, Imani, and Comfrey raced towards their friends; giving them much needed hugs, taking count of the few foals they found, and making sure the sleeping fillies were gently placed into the straw-lined cart. It was at this time that the now merged herds made their exit from the alleyway and started making their exit home.
Leaving the heavily forested part of downtown was pretty easy: CoalHeart was an expert glider and basically knew all of the paths by heart. It wasnât until they turned away from one of the city bends to start the trek towards Angelitoâs Bodega that they heard some suspicious growling coming from what the fluffies referred to as âDah Bushâ. Rattling vines of kudzu and odd, off-white glimmers kept making themselves available out of the corner of their eyes. By the time they made their checkpoint at the back of the bodega, CoalHeart encouraged them to halt and drink some rainwater out of the rusty trough left behind the shop.
âCoalHeawt, sweetie, Mummah has a bad feewinâ bout the bushes today. Erryâtime we been walkinâ it sounds wike a doggie may jump out or sumtinâ. I donât wike it!â Imani shuddered.
âDonât worry, Mom. I know that things feel suspicious, but weâre almost back home. Besides, if anything happens, Iâm literally right here. Iâm not gonna let anything bad happen.â CoalHeart wrapped his hooves around his mother, shushing her quietly. Turning to Willow and Comfrey, he then asked âHey there, howâs lactation going?â
âIt am good! So faw, both da fillies latched on. Comfrey was able to stawt lactation thanks to da wild cabbage tink-tuwe!â Willow smiled.
Looking down at the two feral fillies, she made sure to gently pull them away when they got a bit too nippy on her sisterâs nipples; a common practice that guided nursing fluffies into being more gentle. It was around this moment of the fluffies relaxing, lapping up water, and taking a brief nap that the rustling of the kudzu vines became nothing more than background noise. As the vines parted and the fluffies napped peacefully, the salivating jowls of a ragged purple fluffy licked its chops. Itâs hooves were ragged and clunky, and the electric blond mane and tail were obviously snout-cropped; a habit of chewing oneâs mane and tail shirt observed commonly in many feral fluffies. However, it was the snarling of this particular fluffy that had put both Imani and CoalHeart on high alert, as the two fluffies took wide stances to shield their friends.
âWell, well, well. If it nu am stinky Fwuffies and Dey poopie Fwuffy fwends. I kno dat FoalCoal Pwussy am in suh-pwizing-lee high-demand; buh I no kno dat you bwing extwa supply- ACK.â
The purple feral fluff scuffed his jagged hooves against the cracked pavement, coughing up a storm in front of the now alert herd. Willow placed the rescued fillies on top of Comfreyâs back and crouched in front of them, her horn gleaming in the flickering streetlights. It wasnât until Imani felt the jars jiggling against her chest that she smirked and pulled one out. Popping over the list of an almost-empty jar, she smirked and stuck her hoof in; scooping out an absolutely rancid lump of fermented paste. The feral fluffy seemed deeply confused as to what was happening, cocking his head as Imani stood on her back legs, haunches spread wide apart.
âHmph. It seems as if yuh undah-esssimated Iman-knee dis time, Meanie Fwuffy. Iman-knee am got some-ting foâ ya!â
Without hesitation, Imani had slapped the entire lump of poopie paste all over her teats, her vulva, and even her anus; doing her best to taunt the bewildered feral by rubbing it all over her private parts as sensually as possible. It was incredibly painful for her to keep her smirk from faltering into a grimace, but nevertheless, she held the line. Satisfied with her coverage, she grabbed another lump out from the jar and started rolling it into a sticky ball. The purple feral fluff looked extremely close to vomiting, and held a cracked hoof over his mouth presumably to prevent himself from vomiting.
Wanna twy dat dumbass shit âgain, Meanie Enfie Fwuffy?â Imani taunted, turning around and presenting her poopie-pasted covered asshole and vulva. âOr do yaâ think yaâ learned yoâ wesson?â
âGrrrrr, ngh!â The purple fluffyâs blonde hair stood up as if shocked by lightning. Lo and behold, his hatred wasnât enough to put a cap to his biological urges either. âACK! NO WAN UGWEE COAL POOPIE FWUFFY! NO WANNA DO MEANIE ENFS WITCHU! YOU STINK WIKE SEWAH WATAH! SEWAH SHIT-WAT BED-WENCHIE!â
âGood! Now get outta hewe and scwam!â Imani stood up straight to face the fluffy who raped her only last winter. âYou can hide yoâ no-no stick awl you wanâ, but yoâ crazy-ass cloppinâ is gonna be between you and da WanDie Debil. GUD, KEEP IT DAT WAY!â
âFINE!â
The purple fluffy puffed his cheeks out and turned from the herd as if to walk away. Most of the fluffies had already packed up whatever they needed to and were trotting towards the road anyhow; not wanting to be a further target of the feral fluffâs ire. Unfortunately, the purple feral had other plans, as he eyes Comfreyâs fragile load on her back; the straw and jade colored fuzzy lumps clinging onto her for dear life. It was then that he licked his lips, whipped his body around and charged as quickly as possible.
âEEEEEEP! No wan enfies, no, no NO!â Comfrey panicked.
Everything that happened next was a startling blur. Comfrey managed to mostly dodge the charge, but her rear ended up being scratched by the feral fluffâs incisors, sending the two fillies on her back into a soiled, piss-filled mess. Comfrey ran past the rear of the herd and closer to the middle, which had the unhinged, slobbering feral sliding and tripping over himself, nipping at Eggshell and earning him a few bucks to the chest. What was disturbing however, was the fact that this didnât even deter him, if anything the few drops of blood that he acquired seemed to intensify his arousal. It was when Comfrey was surrounded by the safety of her herd that she realized she was staring right past her, but at the cheeping fillies on her back.
âH-h-he wants da babehs.â Comfrey whimpered with tears in her eyes.
It was at this moment that the feral fluffy leapt an unnaturally high height, jumping over the deeply crowding herd who were all but covering Comfrey and the rescued fillies. Jowls open and saliva flying out, the purple fluffy was elated to quench his thirst for blood and hunger for soft flesh. However, with CoalHeart spreading his sturdy wings and with Willow running up his spine and jumping off his locs, the red-maned brown Fluffy was able to pierce his throat with her horn. Rivulets of blood trailed down her head and she toppled over the purple fluffy; using his glassy-eyed body to break her fall from the collapse.
âSmawty Plum! Smawty Plum? Whewe awe you?!â
A small gaggle of voices crawled out from the kudzu vines, these frazzled feral fluffs growling at the sight of their âSmartyâ laying defeated at Willowâs feet. They were much more stout than their supposed leader, but their canines were sharp and protruding out from their gums. Just from that alone, the rescue herd could tell that these were a longtime enemy of theirs: the Carnivore Fluffies. Before the emerging herd could even get into position, Eggshell had decided for the rest of the group that they had had enough, and pulled out a canister of the bear mace that his brother Cacao had gifted him. Pulling the pin and kicking it behind the herd, he clopped his hooves to the ground to prompt the herd to start running.
âHEY! NO WET DEM GET AWA- AAAAAAAAUUUGHHH!â
The BrownsTown rescuer mission herd dare not look back at the screaming carnivore fluffies currently suffocating under a large cloud of explosive pepper spray. Hacking and couching as they escaped the mist, they barreled their way home, tumbling and leaping through overgrown oak roots and wrapping their pathways around younger pine saplings. There was only one mantra on their frazzled minds and their panting snouts.
âFO-WAWDS EVAH, BACK-WAWDS NEVAH!â
âAwl-wite Fwuffies! Now dat intwo-ductions awe done, itâs time to stawt ow fiwst lesson! Ahowa que las pwesentaciones estĂĄn tewminadas, wamos a empezaw la pwimera lecciĂłn!â
To say that Rosalie was in a chipper mood was an understatement. This was the first time she was ever able to teach a bilingual fluffy class. Normally she would have at least a small herd of 5 to 8 Spanish-speaking fluffies; hell one year she even had 11! And she enjoyed those classes. However, Rosalie was always up for a challenge, so a herd of 6 who were open to learning both Fluffspeak languages was incredible for her. Now, it was time to set some ground rules. Rosalie trotted over to a wall in the hollowed out tree roots of their classroom, pointing to a scribbled sign.
âOK! 1st Lesson. Fwuffy School Wules! Pwimewa lecciĂłn. ÂĄReglas de la Escuela Fwuffy!â
âWule One: All Fwuffies awe Good Fwuffies. Wegla Uno: Todos los fluffies son buenos fluffies.â
âWule Two: Be Nice and Listen. Wegla Dos: SĂ© amable y escucha.â
âWule Thwee: Awl Fwuffies awe Good Smawty Fwuffies. Wegla Tres: Todos los Fluffies son buenos Fluffies inteligentes.â
âWule Foâ: Evewy Hoof must Help Ano-der. Wegla Cuatwo: Cada Hoof debe ayudaâ a otwo.â
âWule Five: Say Sowwy and Do Bettah! Wegla Cinco: ÂĄDi lo siento y haz lo mejor!â
âOtay Missus Wosawie!â The small herd all cried out in unison.
It was around this time that Zorra raised her hoof. The small grey Pegasus had a confused look on her face, and seemed to have her eyebrows furrowed in concern. Rosalie trotted over and tapped on her hoof, which allowed for the fluky to speak.
âBuh Missus Wosawie, isnât beinâ a Smawty Bad? Smawty Fwuffies am weally mean, gibe lots of huwties to Mummah and Daddeh. Eben twy to huwt CabwĂłn and cawl him âwee-tawd-ded.â Nu wanna be Smawty!â Zorra teared up.
âOh no. Missus Wosalie, Mummah was picked on by Meanie Smawties too. Dey be hella Way-cist, too.â Yella Bone piped up. âNu wanna be like dat!â
âOkay, okay class, letâs calm down,â Rosalie sighed, holding her forelegs up and shifting onto her haunches. âWhen Missus Wosalie say all Fluffies awe Smawty Fluffies, it no am mean be meanie. I know dat lotsa Smawties am meanies, but it nu habe to be dat way. Twuth is, eb-we Fwuffy am smawt and clever in Dey own special way. You just need to be nice and kno you not bettah dan any-Fwuffy else!â
With that, the entire class settled down and took a collective deep sigh. That really seemed to do the trick. With the class now collectively at ease, Rosalie smiled and clopped her front hooves together. As the class looked up from their relief-filled stupor, Rosalie pointed towards the opening of the tree trunk and pointed outside. The herd galloped out in excitement and cheerfully started whinnying and leaping around for fun.
âOkay Class! Now itâs time foâ ouw next lesson: Shadow Dodging!â Rosalie grinned.
âWhat am Shadow Dod-ding?â Ebony asked, cocking her head.
âSimple. Lemme show ya- ÂĄVAMOS!â Rosalie shouted.
As Rosalieâs class entered into the center of the grove, the small fillies and foals awed in marvel of the tapering beautiful sunrise; the long-casting shadows encircling them. Making sure to stand in a sunny patch, Rosalie closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Re-opening her eyes with a newfound sense of determination, she then sprinted quickly and galloped into a long stretch of shadow. She then leapt again into another shadowy spot, while the small fluffies gasped in excitement. Rosalie continued this for a few more seconds, taking long, graceful leaps above wide stretches of sunbeams and bright, sun-kissed grass. Ebonywas one of the most ecstatic fluffies in the bunch. With her enthusiasm getting the best of her, she ended up trying to leap over a small stretch of sun; only to stumble and fall.
âOwie!â
Rosalie gracefully landed on her hind hooves, spreading her forelegs to catch her balance. She was able to elegantly leap onto a few shadows, breaching the distance in no time. Tilin and Reddy Rich had helped her to her feet, but despite her fall, Ebony was in pretty high spirits.
âMissus Wosalie, Shadow-Dod-ding am soooo pwetty! It wooks wike dancy dancing!â Ebony grinned. âToo bad Ebony am too stumpy and showt.â
âOh nonsense, Eb-knee. You jusâ in-ex-pewy-enced, das all!â Rosalie giggled, ruffling her mane. Noticing Ebonyâs look of confusion, the teacher then added. âIt means dat whittle fluffies jusâ needs lotsa pwactice. Das awl!â
âPewo Señowita Wosalie, ÂżcuĂĄl es el punto de⊠¿Sombwa Dancy?â tilin asked.
[Buh Miss Wosalie, what is da point of⊠Shadow Dancy?]
âÂĄBuena pwegunta, Tilin! Usamos sombwas esquiwando pawa ayudawnos a escondewnos de los depwe-da-dowes!â Rosalie responded.
[Gweat question, Tilin! We use shadow dodging to hewp us hide⊠fwom Pwe-da-dors!]
âUhm, âscuse me Miss Wosalie. Buh puh-wease say again in Engwish?â Reddy Rich asked.
âOh, Lo Siento, Weddy. Dat means âam Sowwyâ,â Rosalie slid a hoof around his shoulder. âI told yoâ classmates dat Shadow Dodging helps pwotect us fwom Pwe-da-dors! Dat way, no snake munstahs, or howling munstahs, or big owl ow Wed Tailed Hawk!â Rosalie smiled.
âMissus Wosalie, you nu seem too scawdies âbout all sortsa Munstahs.â Yella Bone chuckled wairly.
âOh, I know. Missus Wosalie nu can lie, I dun facedown lotsa meanie Munstahs in my time. Hell, eben Eggshell has too- though his Wuck ainât as good as mine,â She sheepishly chuckled. âBuh no am worried! Missus Wosalie am gonna show ya da ropes. Yâall Weady?â
âÂĄSi! Wapeedo!â
âYes Maâam!â
âHeck Yeah, Wes Go Bay-bee!â
And so, with plenty of enthusiasm and stumbles following, Rosalieâs Herd got to work on learning Shadow Dodging. Needless to say, Tilin and Reddy Rich started a friendly roughhousing competition; leaping into narrow shadow spots and trying to playfully shove each other onto the various sunny patches. While Rosalie was bemused by this, she made sure to let out a shrill whistle, redirected them to start looking for âhidey-holesâ: shallow piles of brush that were easy to hide under while still providing plenty of peeping range. While the unicorn and Pegasus foals focused on that task, Rosalie then turned her attention to the remaining fluffies in the herd.
Another thing that Rosalie noticed is that both Obsidian and Ebony had an interesting pull towards CabrĂłn. Obsidian, obviously, was significantly younger than his other siblings, and was still working on his ever-growing fluffspeak vocabulary. However, the tender and protective care that was nurtured between Ebony, Obsidian, and CabrĂłn really seemed to be pulling the Violet and white speckled Sensitive Baby out of his shell. Within the past 24 hours, he had greeted each one of his classmates in the morning with a shy âpeep Bweno Di-azz. Chiiiirup!â and a smile, to boot. It was a level of psychological progress that wasnât even expected of the most pedigree fluffies with special needs, and it made Rosalieâs Heart swell with pride.
As for Yella Bone and Zorra, well they had taken to each other like beans to rice. They giggled and gossiped with each other, they played together, they even napped together. It was as if they had been friends for years, except that their sisterly bond was forged overnight. Rosalie smiled softly, and hoped that their sisterly bond would be much less strained than her current relationship with her own Fluff-Fighter sister, Atzi. As much as Rosalie liked to talk up her family, and she genuinely loved her siblings; it always befuddled her that her sister would follow her mom into such a dangerous path. Rosalie remembered the nights that she spent pleading with Atzi to âjus we-considahâ and pick a less hostile occupation than the one that had slowly ground their mom down into an unfortunately early grave. But much like Cacao, Atzi was born to thrive in the spotlight; and ultimately Rosalie was grateful that her sister didnât listen.
At this point, the young fluffies had mostly exhausted themselves, with the mid-morning heat tiring them out. She called them back to their den, and congratulated them all on doing such a great job. It was just as they were turning back to go inside that a suspicious rustling was heard from the bushes and low-hanging branches just below them. The small foals and fillies acted on their recently-learned knowledge and scurried into the shadowy underbrush closest to them. As Rosalie stepped into the clearing, she focused her energy on her horn and began to emit a reverberating beige glow; eyes set into a nasty glare. It wasnât until a pile of heaving, familiar fluffies collapsed into view that she snapped out of it and rushed towards them.
âAY MIOS DIO- EGGSHEWW?!â
âWosawie!â
The lightly-battered, pale blue fluffy stumbled out of the brush and reached out to hug his sister. Rosalie grabbed and squeezed onto him as tightly as she could, until several cries âÂĄNo Maw-mes, NO MAW-MES!â were shouted. Rosalie then took to sending to Eggshellâs scraggly brown mane, pulling out a soggy cigarette butt and reassuring him that he was safe now. Soon enough Chestnut, Willow, Aloe, Comfrey, and eventually Imani crawled out from the brush; waving over to Rosalie and plopping down right in front of her.
âMummah? Gasp MUMMAH!â
âMummahâs here, mummahâs hewe!â
âYay Mummah!â
As Ebony and her siblings raced out to greet their Mummah, Cacaoâs offspring shortly followed. There were plenty of hugs to go around from the mares in the herd. Truth be told, Zorra, CabrĂłn, and Tilin enjoyed being able to receive hugs from a Mummah figure, even if it wasnât âtheir Mummahâ specifically. As the fillies and foals pulled back, they were alerted to several shrill chirrups that emitted from Comfreyâs back. The first foals to vocalize their excitement was CabrĂłn and Obsidian, who clamored up to Comfrey to see the babies first.
âAwwww, Bebehâs am so cute! Do Dey hab namesies?â Obsidian asked.
âNope. But Dey am both Fiwwies, so Dey desewbe pwetty names. Watchu tink?â
âO-tay. Dat pwetty filly wooks a wot like Missus Wosawie. So she can hab pwant nameâŠwike da taww, pwetty yellaâ flowahs.â Obsidian tapped his hoof against his head until he grinned. âDandy-Wion! Das hew namesie.â
âOkay, great job!â Comfrey smiled.
Before Comfrey could ask anyone to name the dark Jade filly, CabrĂłn tentatively patted her on the head and called out the word âE-e-epah-zo-tay⊠Epazote!â
âÂĄWowza CabwĂłn! Ese es un nombre delicioso.â Tilin grinned. âÂĄMuy Bien!â
[Wowza CabwĂłn! Thatâs a Yummy name. Good job!â
âReally? What does that name mean, Tilin?â Comfrey asked.
âWell, it am a vewy spe-shul Mexy-can hewb! Ouw Papi uses it when he boils us Negwo Fwijoles De La Olla- Bwack Pot Beans!â Tilin licked his chops. âMami would habe us wheel hew out and sheâd scootch fowawd wike a catipiwwar and go âpluck, pluck, pluck! Anâ den when we got old enuf taâ help, we did!â
While the young Fluffies giggled at Tilin mimicking his momâs scotching movements in her makeshift wheelchair, Imani couldnât help but let out a bittersweet smile. It was obvious that despite her lack of limbs, Coca was doing her best to be the most diligent mother she could be. The frazzled, orange-maned fluffy could only hope that her friend knew that her efforts werenât in vain.
As Imani turned to do a head count, she noticed that Eggshell was dismounting the makeshift cart that Peanut and Corncob were pulling; carefully freeing them from the harnesses. The fluffies all turned to give them a hug; thanking them for all their tireless work during the rescue. Rosalie approached her and placed a hoof on her shoulder, giving her a big hug of her own.
âBuenos Tardes, Wosawie. How did Muh Babbehs do today?â
âEggs-cell-wente. All of yoâ Bebehs show puh-tential; and so do my niblings.â Rosalie grinned. âNow câmon! I actually have some Epazote gwowinâ in mah pewsonal yawd. HEY EGGSHELL! You up foâ beans, tonite?â
âHell yeah!â Eggshell cheered, raising raucous applause from the fluffies around him.
By the final twinges of sunsetsâ goodbye, the entire Herd of BrownsTown was enjoying a delicious meal of mushy Black Beans and freshly-picked Epazote.
End of: Lesson Lasso, Mission Mayhem
Authorâs Note: Wow! 29 pages! this is the longest Fluffy chapter Iâve ever written so far! I think the next few chapters will be a somewhat shorter, but Iâm excited to flesh out the characters and explain more about who they are and more about how the herd functions. I also might start posting some sketch dumps/concepts from the series, and start illustrating a lot of the main characters. Hopefully, you all are excited to see some of that as well.
One last Question: Would yâall be interested in Audiobook recordings of these chapters? I wouldnât mind trying it! Also, if you would be willing to tip per reading, how much would you be willing to tip? Either way, thanks for reading, and have a blessed day!
Link to Google Doc: Ebony the Fluffy Filly 4: Lesson Lasso, Mission Mayhem