[This is another backstory for another one of the adopted fluffies, this one being Bucky]
The little, light blue foal shuffles nervously as his tummy cramps again, loudly rumbling. “Tummy owwies gib big huwties.” he quietly complains, glancing over to see his sister’s trying to get what milk they could from their mother. He could only hope there would be enough left again for a least a couple of mouthfuls, but he wouldn’t let them hear him complain.
The light blue colt always let his siblings go first and encouraged them to drink their fill, which hadn’t been an issue until recently. Now their mother was producing less and less by the day. It had been several days now since he had opened his eyes and started walking, but in that time he saw his mother’s stored up food pile whittle down to practically nothing.
Their mother was a beautiful shade of purple with a sky blue mane, only slightly dulled by the dirt and filth her fluff held. None of them knew exactly what happened but while giving birth there were compilations. Now, the mare was almost entirely paralyzed from the neck down, only weakly being able to use her front legs, and had gone mostly blind. Only four of the six foals that she birthed were able to find their way to her milkie-places. The other two scooted the wrong way and fell into the gutter drain of the building the pregnant mare had placed herself at when she had gotten too large to move so she could have access to water when it occasionally rained. They had long ago been washed away.
Since then, she had been able to move herself into the path of the water that came out when it rained. This allowed the excess shit, piss and afterbirth to be washed away during those times while still keeping herself and her foals sheltered and within reach of the foodpile she was smart enough to have built up. She had no special friend, he had never returned after looking for food one day so she knew she had to prepare and the smoothie shop across the street often had the best trash nummies.
Through all this she did what she could for her little foals, she never actually got to see them but on bright days she could just barely make out their colors from the blurs. She would sing to them, keep them warm, give them huggies the best she could manage, help guide them to her milkie-places, and even give them lickie-cleanies.
Unfortunately, when they started becoming splorin’ babies one had wondered too far while she slept. When she woke up the foal was out of her meager sight and out of her reach. She would never know that the foal wasn’t born healthy and died amidst her food pile, not even noticing when she ate him a couple days later.
“Udda babbeh, com ged sum miwkie. Need fow gwow up big an stwong.” says the mare to her little blue foal.
After a few suckles at each teat, the blue foal unlatches, unable to get any more milk. The mare says “Babbeh whud wong? Am mommah outta miwkie agains? Huu-huu wowstest mommah evab.”
The blue foal quickly pipes up, “peep Nu mommah, babbeh am jus tu fuww. Babbehs wuv bestest mommah. Gud mommah fow gud babbehs.”
The mare continues to cry softly as she wraps her babies up weakly to her chest before fading off to sleep, muttering about not having any nummies or milkies. The two female foals fall asleep, bellies full enough to find comfort, as their brother wiggles free.
Quietly, his soft, squishy hooves allow him to move away from the fluffpile. Driven by his hunger, he knows he needs to find some milkie or some nummies for his mama so she can make milkies.
Staying pressed against the wall of the alley, the young foal makes his way down, further than he had ever travelled away from his family or shelter. The words of his mother echoed in his head with every step, warning about the dangers and of their missing brother, but the sound of stomach now drowned out those words.
Moving from pile to pile turned up little. Looking the few feet to the end of the alleyway where he could see an occasional vroom-vroom monster or human walk, he nervously watches. He sees two very large men talking, the one coming from the right looked like his skin and no-fluff were very wet, while the one that had come from across the street looked dry and was carrying a cup and a white bag.
As they part ways, the man shoves the cup in the bag and tosses it on the trash pile right near where the foal was hiding. With wide eyes, he watches as the bag starts to tumble down to him causing him to release a meager scaredy poop. After wiggle out and making sure that all was quiet, the little blue fluffy starts pawing around the bag, finding its opening.
He can smell something delicious and finds a half-eaten sandwich, still warm. He hesitantly tries to nibble a bit, only to find his lack of teeth prevents any progress. Crestfallen, the foal then looks for a way to get it to his mother. He grabs a corner of the paper it is wrapped in and notices he can move it, but first he needs to push the heavy cup out of the way.
Struggling, with all of his might, he pushes the cup inch by inch until it is finally out of the bag’s opening. Exhausted, the young foal begins to cry, not knowing how he will manage to get the food to his mother now.
Leaning against the cup laying on its side, the foal notices a liquid leaking out of the straw. As he examines the liquid he notices it is green but milky. He sniffs it, it smells like nummies but not pretty nummies. His stomach loudly protests, demanding sustenance.
Gingerly, he takes a small lick. It doesn’t taste like mama’s sweet milkie but does taste a little milkie, but a little like grassie he has tried nibbling yesterday with some other strange flavors. Some tasted a little fruity and other flavors just were indescribable to the little foal, but they weren’t good nummie tastes.
Finally, he pulled himself from his thoughts only to realize that he had continued to drink and was now full. Also, he felt energized and strong, strong enough to begin his challenge of dragging the sandwich back to his family.
It took nearly an hour, but he finally made it back to the shelter with the sandwich. He was exhausted again but was still at least relatively full. He then wakes up his sleeping mother. “Mommeh? Babbeh found sum nummies for mommah su can maek bestest milkies for sissies.”
Sniffing at the sandwich the mare begins to weep, “Babbeh find nummies fow mommah? Su gud babbeh, yu gib mommah su many heart happies.” After taking a few bites and happily humming the mare stops suddenly “Babbeh, whewe yu find nummies?”
The little foal shuffles as he explains his little adventure only to be scolded afterwards.
“Yu could hab gotten nummed or got huwties.” the mare pauses as she hears the little foal crying, “Hewe hewe babbeh, yu nu am bad babbeh. Yu twy and hewp famiwy su nu hab tummy huwties. Mommah wuv yu.”
The little blue foal hugs on and snuggles into his mother’s neck fluff. “Weawwy? Nu mean tu be bad babbeh. Wuv yu mommah.”
The mare snuggles the little foal as he fades off to sleep, worn out from the day’s work, while the mother nibbles away on the remainder of the sandwich as the two fillies soundly continue to sleep.
As the days went by the little blue foal continued to go down the alley, his mother no longer chiding him because she understood the desperate need at this point. She decided to let him volunteer, putting himself at risk instead of letting them all starve. Thankfully, he was getting bigger and stronger surprisingly fast, outgrowing his sister’s growth considerably.
After just three days, the young fluffy built enough courage to ask the large, muscled humans he saw coming from the smoothie shop across the street that were about to throw their leftovers to the dumpster or trash cans if they could put it within his reach. Surprisingly, many complied with the simple request from the polite little fluffy. Many were happy to just not be accosted by demands to become their new daddy, a house, or “sketti”.
One man, the same that he originally got food from, found the situation entertaining as he let out a hearty chuckle. “Trying to get swole too huh? You keep drinking these and you’re going to be the buffest fluffball on the block.” For the first few days after, that man was the fluffy family’s primary source of food, but suddenly, more people started doing the same. Little did the young blue foal know, he was the talk of the gym. Many just wanted to see the effects of the different workout supplements they used in their smoothie and shakes.
Within a couple weeks the supplements had taken hold on him and all the foals had begun to start eating some of the softer solid food. The blue foal was nearly twice the size of his sisters and was just as much muscled bulk as he was fluff, but he was just happy to be able to easily bring his family, that he loved oh so much, the food that was given to them.
As fate would have it or maybe the mare could sense her children could now make it without her, it was this time that she passed in the night. Snuggled close to the children which she had endured so much unspoken suffering for the past few weeks, she smiled knowing she gave them the best she could and of hopeful visions of Skettiland.
The trio woke the following morning, feeling cooler than normal. It didn’t take long for them to realize their mother had gone forever sleepies. They didn’t bother collecting or eating anything that day, the sobbing mass of hugs and fluff were all that filled their thoughts.
It took two days, but the trio started adapting to their new life, thankfully having each other. They needed to plan on what to do next, the world beyond the alleyway seemed so daunting but they needed to get away from the sight (and smell) of their mother’s corpse as the pain it triggered was too much.
That morning, when the sun was just starting to rise, they began their journey. They didn’t get far, just walking around the full block ending at the alleyway on the other side of the gym, when they heard yelling coming from somewhere down the alley. The young blue colt told his sisters to stay back as he carefully looks for the source from a distance.
Confused, the fluffy looks around and sees no one before looking up. He could tell now that the angry yelling was coming from a second-story window. As he sits, watching, trying to think of where to go next he sees a dark green ball of fluff flying out of that window. That fluffy was a sobbing mess as it landed in a pile of trash, thankfully a soft one.
The blue colt rushes to the pile, climbing as quickly as he can. He exams the tattered mess of a fluffy before him, forest green with a jet-black mane and a dapple of ivory along her back and rear. She is bleeding heavily from several spots, primarily from her forehead and back, and her back legs lay broken and bent in unnatural ways.
Tears free flowing, the filly cries “Why mommah nu wuv Twash nu mowe? HUUU. Jus wan be gud fwuffy fow mommah. Nu du nuthin wong. Huuhuu. Onwy gib mommah huggies and wuv.”
Startling the broken filly, the blue colt gently touches her with his soft hoof. “Fwuffy am huwties and hab boo boo juice.”
Trash glances up as the power blue colt talks “Huggies nu be enuff fow maek huwties bettah. Maybe hoomin can hewp.”
Still sobbing softly, Trash says “Why am hewpn Trash? Nu see fwuffy am munstah?”
Positioning himself to let the filly get onto his back, “Nu am munstah siwwy fwuffy, jus pwetty fiwwy wit owwies. Fwuffy get on backsie.”
Wincing as she grabs hold around the colt’s neck, the green filly pulls herself onto his back. Once secure, the colt slowly makes his way down the trash pile, struggling to stay balanced with the extra weight. Once he reaches the bottom, the colt’s sister rush over, trying to help keep balance.
Trying to hold back her sobs, the broken filly says “Fank yu nyu fwiends. Nu wanna gu fowevew sweepies.”
The two sisters try hugging and comforting the filly as she is lowered to the ground at the opening of the alley as the colt frantically runs up to any person he sees, begging loudly. It didn’t take long for a woman to notice him and followed to the distressed group.
“Oh dear.” the woman grabs a nearby box and quickly ushers the fluffies into the box after gently lowering the now unconscious filly into it. “Quickly now, I’m sorry I don’t have much time but I know somewhere close that can help and keep you safe.” The woman moved swiftly back to the shelter she passed moments ago.
Looking down into the box as she enters the shelter’s front room, she curses her luck. Some of them had great colors and at least one was an alicorn, but she’d be traveling for the next several weeks. Pressing the thought from her mind she gives a shout for help before being greeted by a couple employees.
“I found these fluff just down the road by the gym, one of them is in desperate need of help.” the woman places the box on the counter before making a break for the door, “I’m sorry, but they aren’t mine and I’m already late.”
(“Ma’am, this is a Wendy’s.” sorry, needed a laugh and thought I would share)
Looking in the box in shock, Julie grabs the three seemingly healthy foals while the other grabs the box, both shouting for the vet to get into surgery. Julie, in a rush, drops the three foals in the enclosure with four colts before scurrying through the door to offer a hand.
The powder blue colt collects himself, sitting on his dark brown tail, and checks on his two siblings. Satisfied, he looks over to an older, large, mint-green colt approaching, being followed from a distance by three others.
Standing in front of his sisters, a dark purple pegasus and a lavender alicorn, the dark-maned, light blue colt offers a cheerful smile “Hewwo nyu fwiends.”
