Your name is Empress… Well, not yet anyways, but you soon will be.
You were born a Feral, a tossed aside piece of garbage… Even to your own kin, you were worse than trash. You were a Munsta, not a poopie-munsta, thankfully, but a Munsta nonetheless.
Your mother was kind, but only to a degree. She fed you the bare minimum, and only played with you when you asked, and even then, only for a few moments. She was a Pegasus, with beautiful Red Fluff, and a Pretty White mane.
Your father was a Black Stallion, an Earthie. Massive compared to the rest of the Herd you were apart of. To every-fluffy else, you were a Omen. Other Foals would tease you, and refuse to play with you. Other Mummas an’ Daddehs would scold you for approaching them, even by accident.
You were labeled so many things while you lived in the herd… A Milk-Thief, a Baby-Nummer, and sometimes, even tho you weren’t, they would call you a Poopie-Munsta. You never did things to ever cause any of these names… But… They were given still…
You don’t know why they confused you with Poop. It didn’t make any sense. You have a pretty White coat, and a matching mane! You couldn’t help it you had pointy-hooves, or the many pokie-places all over you back!
But… You were a Munsta… To them… To the Herd… Your family… Everyone…
But that didn’t matter to you… You were better than them… All of them… You heard it in your mother’s songs when you were still a Tummy-Baby…
A Bestes’… A Bestes’s Baby…
And one Bright-Time… You would lead them all… Regardless if they wanted you to, or not…
As you grew, your became prettier and prettier. Your mane fully developed into a large… Mane, it circled around your neck and poofed up quite nicely.
Even tho you grew pretty and strong, you were still a shunned member of your Herd… Your family was more accepting when you came back with nummies a few times, but even then, you still felt their glances… All but your Daddeh, Dark.
Your Daddeh was the Resident Toughie, and to him, after the nummie-finding, you were his bestes… You… Liked to make him happy… It made you happy… After all…
What Filly wouldn’t want her Daddeh to be happy with her.
But… One day you got a craving… For… something other than Berry-Nummies and Grassie-not-Sketti’s…
You craved something Metallic, something… Foreign to you, something you only ever smelled once, something from when you were young…
Boo-Boo Juice…
That night you stalked around your family… Confused… Hungry… And afraid…
You… You loved them… Well… Daddeh, you loved Daddeh… So by proxy, you loved your whole family…
So… You left, and made your way out of the Nestie, and into the Herd’s Safe-Place. You needed to talk to someone, anyone with a different view than your family… The Smarty would know… He was the Smarty, so that meant that he was smart, and probably the only one you could talk to.
As you made your way over to the Smarty’s nestie, you were greeted by his Brother, Bluey. A Dark-Blue coated Earthie with a Orange Mane, one of the few Fluffies in the Herd that didn’t immediately hate you when you were born.
“Hewwo Babbeh… Wha’ ‘ou doin’ ou’ hewe? Nu 'fwaid ob da dawkies?” Skippy asked, groggily waking from his postman’s nap. “Nu, Dawkies nu am scawy, am munsta dat am scawy… Can Babbeh gu tawkies wiff Smawty? Wiww be vewy fas’!” You asked, sitting politely.
That was the only way for you to get any chance at getting something… Asking nicely… You should have been given things when you wanted them… But… At the moment, you were just a Big-Baby, Old enough to walk, talk and play, but not old enough for a name…
“Weww… Ib Babbeh pwomise tu be quickies, den Skippy wiww ged Smawty fow ‘ou, but jus’ be cawefuw what Babbeh say, Smawty nu wike tu be wakies-up duwing Dawk-Time Sweepies.” Skippy relents, heading into the Smarty’s nestie.
After a few moments of talking and a audible sigh, you were finally greeted by the Smarty, Gowd-Toof. Gowd-Toof was originally a domesticated Fluffy, but after being tricked, and left to survive on his own, he came blow to blow with the former Smarty before him. You never knew who he was, but you did know the Name Gold-Tooth was earned, hence the single Gold molar he cared for so pridefully.
As Gold-Tooth sat down in front of you, his Cream colored coat waved gently as the wind picked up, his Orange mane was blowing a bit more as you noticed it, all in all he was a very Pretty Stallion, one who, by Fluffy standards would be gladly adopted, or taken in, regardless of being a Feral.
“Wha’ Babbeh wan?” Gold-Tooth said grumpily, hoping to soon return to his special friend… And his bed.
“W-weww… B-babbeh nee’ tu ask if nowmaw t-tu…” You stopped… No you hesitated, the look on Gold-Tooth’s face turned form one of mild annoyance to curiosity. “Wha’? Gowd-Toof hab sumtin’ on noseis? Wha’ebah ting is, nu can be dat bad.” He reassured you. The honestly was well taken, so…
You told him… About your strange craving and the feeling you had about… Boo-Boo juice…
The look of curiosity became one of confusion, then to one of… Well… Gold-Tooth’s face went cold. His expression was muted behind his eyes, staring at You.
As You continued, you felt his hoof fall onto your nose, gently, not a Sorry-Hoof, but as an indication to stop, to pause…
“Fank ‘ou fow tewwing Smawty. Babbeh mus’ hab been wowwied dat Gowd-Toof tink 'ou am munsta nao, buh nu. Buh awso nu can wet 'ou hab Boo-Boo juice. Nebah fwom hewd, ow fwom famiwy…” Gold-Tooth paused for a moment, his expression was still cold, but now he was more calm than anything else.
“Wiww hab tu tawk wiff Dawk abou’ dis.” As he mentioned that, you felt your heart drop… The one thing you needed to avoid, the one thing you specifically avoided was that very thing! To tell your Daddeh would make him hate you! To tell him was to ruin Your life! Everything!
As your mind raced, you suddenly felt Gold-Tooth’s hoof on your muzzle again, snapping you awake from your own thoughts.
“Nu wowwies… 'Ou wiww stiww be apawt ob hewd, wiww teww 'ou Daddeh dat, su nu wowwies ib dey angwy wiff 'ou. Dey wiww fowgibe, may take wong time, but dey wiww. Am gud Mummah an Daddeh… Am Smawty aftew aww, knuw what am bestes.”
As the words reassured you, you felt… Calmer… even warmer, to a point…
You thanked Gold-Tooth, quickly hugging him and Bluey, and soon making your way back to your Family Nestie. Not knowing your curiosity about your craving would leave you start you down a wicked road.
One you would never recover from, one that would shape you into a Munsta. A evil thing that preyed upon the weak, and respected the strong…
If only you had never been born.
Decided to take a small break from Clint’s Story, and wanted to expand the Feral Fluffy side of the verse more, Empress is the Xeno-Mare that was surrendered to the Mill, the same one that broke out of it’s pen, and murdered a handful of Colts.
If you want to know what a Xenofluffy is, or just wondering what Empress would look like, ill leave these two links for description, and a general idea of what they are.
[The Mane style done right, by Federal here, rocked by Grandpa Xeno]
[And the over all headcannon done by Rescue here.]
{Thanks for reading!}