Chapter XII: Stirring, Softly, Looming
Previous Chapter: Chapter XI
One night during bath time, a twice weekly occurrence in Mark’s home, a visitor was to appear. As a side bonus to his newly domestic fluffs’ closeness, baths had become a joint affair.
‘Hehe, gib spwashies!’ Fenrir splashed water and bubbles in Alex’s direction.
‘Awex gib bigges’ spwashies back!’ The water more copious this time, Fenrir was soaked, the water dripping down his face.
‘Eep! Daddeh, can hab towwy fow see pwace dwying?’ he asked Mark, keeping his eyes closed while idly looking around, hoping to somehow see where Mark still was.
‘Sure thing Fenrir.’ Mark grabbed the towel hanging off the bathroom counter, and rubbed his face to get the water out of his eyes.
‘Awex sowwy speshul fwen. Wewe too much wawas.’ Alex waded over to Fenrir, trying to brush off some of the water from his back, though naturally ineffective, himself being nearly as drenched.
These two were always quick to apologise, quick to make amends. Mark was incredibly glad they were never aggressive with each other. The last thing he wanted was for Fenrir to end up with a housemate who terrorised him or treated him poorly. In Alex, he got everything he could have asked for and more. Sure it was unconventional, but convention was hardly worth anything if the price was too high.
‘Am otay Awex, Fenwiwr am fine! Baff wawas am safe wid daddeh.’ He shook himself of most of the soapy water, Mark proceeding to get the rinsing bowl. Pouring it gently, he rinsed them both one at a time, and picked them up to dry them off on the bathroom floor. Half way through the towel and blow drying, he heard a knock at the door. Surprised someone had come by somewhat later in the evening, he set the grooming accoutrement aside. He had to at least check, and see if it was important.
‘Boys, stay here for a minute. There’s someone at the door, I need to see who it is.’
‘Otay daddeh’ they both answered. Standing and walking quickly to the front door, another knock began as he opened it.
‘Oh, you’re here.’ It was his sister, Madeline.
‘Madeline? What are you doing here? I thought you were going out of town this week.’
‘Oh, no. That’s not for another few days.’ She stepped through the doorway, swiping her boots on the mat. Taking them off in the entryway, she looked up at Mark with a grin.
‘What is it?’ Mark asked, closing the door.
‘I heard you got pets, fluffies no less. You used to say you thought they were gross and annoying. Mom couldn’t believe it.’
‘Look, you and I both know the one she had years ago was a complete pest. That thing… he was like her fourth kid. She let him get away with everything. You know it got on your nerves, too.’ Mark rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he sat down on the sofa. His sister joined him, continuing with a sigh.
‘True, true. Bruiser was a big ball of a baby. If he wasn’t constantly begging for toys or having bowel ‘accidents’, he was eating as much as he could stuff his face with. But, that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to see your fluffies. Where are they by the way?’
Mark, still with the towel on the table, called out for them. ‘Boys, come here. I want you to meet someone very special.’
‘Speshul?! Am daddeh speshul fwend?’ Fenrir called out as he and Alex trotted into the living room, jumping at Mark’s legs to get a look at his sister.
Mark laughed. ‘No, no. Calm down boys. This is my sister, Madeline. She wanted to meet both of you.’
‘Am daddeh sistuh?’ Alex gasped. ‘Wuv meet nyu daddeh sistuh!’
‘Suu happies fow meet daddeh sissy!’ Fenrir beamed. The two made their way to brush up against her legs, cooing as she reached out and pet them.
‘Hah! Nice to meet you too, little ones. They’re a bit damp, Mark.’
‘Yeah, they were just in the bath. Let me dry them off a bit more.’ He beckoned them over and began to wrap the towel around them, patting as much water as he could out.
‘What are your names?’ Madeline asked, glancing between the two, half obscured by the towel currently covering them, their faces intermittently visible.
‘Am Fenwiwr!’ Fenrir piped up first. ‘Awex!’ followed.
‘You two are really cute.’ Madeline smiled, giving them the compliment. They giggled, making 'tank ‘ous’ from the accolade. ‘Do they get along well?’ she continued, turning to Mark. ‘I hope they’re friendly.’
‘Yus!’ Fenrir popped out from the towel, excited to correct Madeline. 'Awex am speshul fwend!’ Alex simply let himself be dried by Mark, enjoying the rub down.
‘Really?’ Madeline was surprised. ‘Mark, they’re both stallions right?’
‘Don’t question it, sis.’ He rolled his eyes.
‘I’m not, it’s just quite the vibe you’ve got going over here, Mark. Before you know it you’ll end up with a house for misfit fluffies sign on your door.’
‘Ha…ha. That’s not happening. These are my two, not getting any more.’ Finishing their drying as best as he was able with the towel, he motioned for Alex and Fenrir to go sit on the chair so they could all sit together and he could catch up with his sister. Hopping successively up into the plush chair, Fenrir and Alex finished up, licking some remaining water from under each other’s necks, behind ears, places harder to dry.
‘Well you say that, but you had one, then got another.’ His sister was skeptical, but more than anything liked egging Mark on.
‘I couldn’t leave Alex on the street like he was when I found him.’ Alex perked up, hearing his name, and what Mark had said.
'Tank ‘ou daddeh. Wuv daddeh.’ Fenrir too, was grateful. 'Daddeh gib Fenwiwr bestest fwend, an bestest speshul fwend. Am su happies too, tank ‘ou daddeh.’
‘Okay, fine. I see why you like them. What did mom do wrong? She bought that fluffy from one of those stores and from day one it just acted so bratty.’
‘I really don’t know what to say.’ Mark had little insight. ‘I mean I’ve been doing reading, watching some videos. All I can tell is it depends a lot on how they were as babies. Maybe mom didn’t give him the right training.’
‘Did you train these two?’ Madeline shifted her head, propping it up with her palm on the back of the sofa.
‘A little, but honestly, these two have been great. In the beginning, there were a lot of health problems. When I found them they were in bad shape. But since then they’ve gotten a lot better.’
‘I’m glad. Still though, who can say how they’ll be going forward.’ Madeline sighed, she believed all fluffies eventually ended up misbehaving and getting fixated on things they wanted. She’d seen it with Bruiser, their mother’s fluffy. By the time he was 2, he was incredibly chubby. Though he ate like a horse, he became convinced that he needed babies. Somehow he couldn’t understand that he had been fixed. He didn’t even have ‘lumps’ when their mother adopted him. The store she’d bought him from apparently had a spay and neutering policy. All foals had to be fixed before adoption. In the time between him being a foal and his… engorgement, he’d lost sight of his no-nos. Once he forgot he lost his lumps, he began demanding to mate to have babbehs.
‘You remember when mom started calling us all the time, worrying something was wrong with Bruiser?’ his sister recalled.
‘Oh, right. The babbehs incident. He wouldn’t stop crying and acting out for weeks. It finally took several trips to the vet and a mirror to show him he couldn’t have babies anymore.’ Mark chuckled, relaxing into a sigh.
‘He was so broken up about that he slumped into a depression for weeks.’ Madeline continued reminiscing with the story. ‘But then, mom got a brain wave. She picked up some stuffy foals for him to play with, and he perked right up.’
‘Yeah, he really went to town on them. Good thing he never had foals or he’d have crushed them. The way he sat on them and rolled around with them…’ Mark cringed at the thought.
Sensing a lull in the cadence of the conversation, Madeline chose her moment to pounce. ‘Well, I hope you don’t mind brother, but I thought I’d crash here tonight. How about I order us some pizza and we can all hang out before bed?’ Madeline gave a wink to Mark before nodding her head towards the two fluffs curled up on the chair across the room. Content to just listen to the humans banter, they’d been quietly relaxing, now dry and warm.
Mark oddly had never given them pizza before. Perhaps the tomato sauce would fulfil some ‘sketti’ association. Leave it to Madeline, though, always managing to get Mark to accommodate her. With a sigh, he named his price. ‘Sure, but you’re paying. And we’re playing cards.’
‘Sounds fair. What toppings do you want?’ Madeline picked up her phone to look up her favourite local delivery’s number.
‘We could share a chicken, spinach and artichoke one. I’d prefer to give them something vegetarian though. Can’t really think what would be good, perhaps the same but sub the chicken for mushrooms.’
‘That’s a surprise, coming from you.’ Madeline shot him a cocked eyebrow, aware of his severe allergy, before placing the phone to her ear. ‘Making all sorts of changes for your kids, aren’t you.’
‘Yes, yes… quip away.’ Mark rolled his eyes, shifting himself from the sofa to tell Fenrir and Alex about food. ‘Boys, Madeline’s going to get us all nummies. It’ll be here in a while, but it’s something new—pizza.’
‘Daddeh sissy bwing nummies? Yay, wuv daddeh sissy!’ Fenrir perked up with excitement. Alex slowly shuffled down to the floor, thanking Madeline, who gave a wave and a smile as she continued her order.
‘Am peesa gud nummies, daddeh?’ he looked up, asking Mark, yet again more new things keeping him feeling somewhat wary.
‘It’s good. Well, usually. But you don’t want to eat it too often, too much and you feel bloated.’ Mark gave a bit of a wince, or a scowl, as he held his hand to his stomach.
‘Oh, tummy owwies, Awex know wat mean.’
Just under an hour later, the fluffies were nibbling up the small pieces Mark had cut from their pizza. ‘Dese am nummy, daddeh! Mushies am gud akshuwwy. Wai Awex nu teww Fenwiwr?’ Fenrir turned to Alex as he swallowed the last bite.
‘Nu same mushies, speshul fwen. Buh happeh to shawe nyu mushies an nummies.’ Alex picked up a piece and dropped it next to Fenrir.
He looked up to get a lick on his cheek. 'Tank ‘ou Awex, wuv!’ Fenrir booped him before eating one final piece. The two began to sigh, and Mark and Madeline looked on hearing sounds of ‘su fuww’, taking a break from their cards, each a glass of wine in their hands.
‘Okay, I get it now, they’re flippin’ cute bro.’ Madeline took another sip of wine, then carefully set the glass on the end table before picking up the deck of cards again.
‘I told you.’ Mark took another sip as well. ‘Still wanna play another round?’ he asked Madeline, seeing her shuffling the cards. ‘I have an idea, actually. Why don’t we play with Alex and Fenrir, too?’
‘Daddeh wan pway?’ Alex and Fenrir both chimed in.
‘Can they even play cards?’ Madeline asked, surprised.
‘I haven’t with them before, but maybe we can play something easy. I’ve been trying to teach them to read letters. Fenrir’s doing really well, he knows the alphabet now.’
‘Know A B Shees!’ Fenrir said, proud. Alex was a bit behind, and Mark saw him look glum at Fenrir’s boast.
‘Alex, you’re nearly there too. Don’t worry! It’s not easy at first.’ Alex’s face grew happy, hearing the encouragement. Fenrir, too, gave him a hug in consolation.
‘Listen boys, we’re gonna play a game called “Matchies” (Mark couldn’t really think of a card game analogue he knew on the spot). You see these cards?’ He held one up, allowing them to study it for a few moments.
‘Am cawdies?’ Alex asked, interested in the small rectangle, with a funny picture of a human and a letter he almost remembered.
‘Am Q!’ Fenrir said, wagging his tail with a contented grin.
‘That’s right, buddy. It’s a Queen, but don’t worry about that. All you need to know is the little shapes. Each of us will get five cards. That’s four and one, okay?’
‘Kween…’ Alex sounded it out, still looking at the card. The two fluffies began to listen to Mark as he tried to explain. He continued, trying to think of how to make it uncomplicated. ‘Now, I know you two haven’t done a game like this before, so we’ll have only a couple rules. First, each of us will draw a card from the top of the pile. And we’ll show each other which ones are our shape, okay? The goal is to get all the cards that have the same symbol you have.’
‘Dis am hawd game daddeh?’ Fenrir began to look confused at all the hard sounding stuff. It was a lot to keep track of. Alex silently nodded, his face growing more concentrated. Mark had noticed that he had a competitive streak, always wanting to keep up with Fenrir. Yet when Fenrir lost in a feat of wits, Alex was never a boastful winner. He encouraged Fenrir to try harder, which gave Mark the impression that Fenrir began to excel these past couple of weeks more and more in part due to Alex’s support.
‘Don’t worry, bud. You’ll see. Just listen.’ Mark gave him a pat on the head, and continued. ‘Here, see? This one has a lots of pointies. That’s a diamond. This one here, that’s got the pointy at the top? That’s a spade. The one with lots of roundies? That’s a club. And this last one, this is a heart.’
The fluffies perked up at the word. ‘Am hawties? Wuv hawt happies.’ Fenrir became excited to play at the mere notion of getting lots of hearts.
‘That’s right. Anywho, here. I’ll pick up four cards and we can each draw one to see who gets which shape.’ Holding the quartet out with his hand, he turned to Madeline.
‘Oh, I go first? Well alright.’ She drew - Spade. ‘Ah.’ She returned it to Mark, who placed it back in the pile on the sofa. Turning to Fenrir, he held the remaining three out. ‘Tap it with your hoof, and I’ll show you what it was.’
‘Pwease be hawties.’ Fenrir tapped. Mark turned it over, and showed Fenrir. ‘Hawties!’ he beamed. ‘Awex, Fenwiwr get hawties!’
‘Su happy foww speshul fwen!’ Alex smiled, as Mark held the remaining two out for Alex to have a go. ‘I’ll take what’s left, Alex. Go ahead.’
Alex tapped, and waited for Mark to show him the result. ‘Am… dymun?’ he asked, checking Mark’s expression. He nodded. ‘So that means, I’m clubs. Cool, so here’s the deal. With our first five cards, we have to ask someone else if they have a card with our shape, got it?’
The fluffies nodded slowly. ‘Okay, if we don’t have one, we draw two cards after giving up one of our remaining cards. If we do have any, we have to turn them over to the person who asked.’
‘Aww cawdies wid ask shapsies?’ Alex enquired, still intently focused on this fascinating game.
‘Yes, so that means if all of your cards are that shape, and you run out of cards, you’re out of the game!’ Mark gave his dramatic voice a bit of flare at the end.
Fenrir gasped. ‘Nu wan wose aww cawdies…’
‘Alright’ Mark summed up, ‘Remember, if you get all of your shapes, you win. If you run out of cards, you lose. If we’ve all got it, let’s begin.’
The game started out slowly, Mark realising he needed to put up some dividers so that Alex and Fenrir could look at their cards in privacy, their hooves unable to grasp like hands. Madeline was doing really well, with a fair bit of luck out of the gate. Fenrir was down to only three cards.
‘Am hab shapsie cawd, speshul fwen?’ Alex asked Fenrir. He saw Fenrir give a sad face.
‘Huu… yus.’ He grabbed two cards with his mouth, dropping them to Alex’s side of the divider. ‘Wai am speshul fwend meanies?’
‘Am sowwy! Wan pway gamesies, am owny gamesies Fenwiwr!’ Alex tried to cheer him up, get his mind off the disappointment. But the drive to win was burning within him.
Madeline took her next turn, and in one massive hit, left Mark with only one remaining card. Fenrir asked Mark if he had one with his shape, but Mark didn’t, and drew two more cards, leaving Mark perilously close to being out. Mark finally got one of his clubs from Madeline, surprised at how quickly the game seemed to be ending. Half the deck was still on the table, and Alex and Madeline had the vast majority of the free cards. I guess I shuffled pretty poorly, eh.
With a sigh of relief, Fenrir drew two cards, his last card not being the one with her shape. Giving Madeline the card, he noticed the shape on the two he drew. He gave a worried expression, turning to Mark. Mark noticed. Sorry buddy, but I’m in it to win it.
Alex decided to ask Madeline this time, and scored one of his shapes. By now he’d gotten over half the cards he needed. Mark went in for the kill. Turning to Fenrir, he asked feigning ignorance of Fenrir’s tell, ‘Fenrir, my sweet little fluffy boy, have you got any of my shapes?’
Fenrir began to tear up. ‘Huu huu… Fenwiwr wose! Gamesies am su meanies, daddeh wai meanies!’ He slumped off to the chair, hopping up and burying his face in the pillow. Mark picked up the cards as he went over to comfort Fenrir.
‘Shh, it’s alright Fenrir. It’s just a game. You can always win another time. It’s not just a one time thing!’
‘Huu… nu wike meanie game…’ Fenrir continued to sob. Alex would have been there with Mark but he had Madeline in his sights. Am bestest advuhsawy. Daddeh sissy danguhwuss! The thought popped up as he kept his gaze fixed.
Mark sauntered back over. He was close to being out himself. Sure, he had three of his cards now, but he had nothing else. Madeline was keeping track. In two swift moves, Mark’s luck ran out. He drew Alex and Madeline’s cards, and was forced to give up his own.
‘Sorry bro.’ Madeline gave Mark a pat as she shuffled her cards in her hand.
‘It’s fine, at least Alex is having fun.’ He glanced over at Alex still concentrating really hard on the deck and Madeline.
Alex asked her. ‘Shapsies?’
She nodded, and plucked one card from her deck. Her turn. ‘You?’
Alex frowned, plopping one in front of her.
Mark noticed a smirk on her face. He leaned over and looked at her hand. She’d gotten twelve of the thirteen she needed. All she had to do was get Alex to draw it, and ask—then she’d win.
Alex took his turn, but Madeline naturally had none of his cards. She put one of her spares back in the pile and drew two. She had one of his now, but she could outlast him, impressed to see his skill at getting so far.
Alex’s next draw from not having one of her cards resulted in him noticing her shape had reappeared. He didn’t know how many cards there were for each shape, but he got nervous.
He took his turn once more, getting his spirits lifted upon receiving another one of his shapes. There were too many of his shapes to count! By this point, he had ten. Close, but no cigar.
Confident, Madeline made the final attack. Alex surrendered her card, expecting the game to continue.
‘Matchies!’ she exclaimed.
‘Wuhh?’ Alex looked up, shocked at the outburst.
'I win, got ‘em all.’ She showed him her cards. He looked through all of them—there were a lot, maybe more than he realised. He looked up at Mark.
‘Daddeh, am aww cawdies? Weewy?’
‘Yep, bud. Sorry. She beat us all!’ Mark gave a chuckle and a smile.
Alex gave a frustrated frown and puffed his cheeks. Mark remembered that was a potential sign of bad behaviour for fluffies, but he figured Alex was just pouting. He placed his hands on his cheeks and tapped, before tickling his stomach.
‘Hehehe! Daddeh nu! Tickews!’ Within moments Alex had lost his sour mood. He was disappointed to lose, but after settling down, he saw Fenrir with a glum expression on the chair.
‘Feel better, bud?’ Mark asked, scrunching Alex’s forehead fluff.
‘Yus daddeh… Speshul fwen wook saddies. Nee’ Awex fow make feew bettuh.’ He waddled over to Fenrir, placing his head on the edge of the chair. ‘Speshul fwen?’
‘Wut’ Fenrir asked, still pouting. ‘Awex bettah at meanie cawdies den dummeh Fenwiwr.’
‘Nu am dummeh speshul fwen! Am nyu game, Awex wose too. Buh Awex gib nice ting fow make feew bettuh!’
‘Weewy, wut am ting?’ Fenrir perked up, excited at the prospect.
Alex tried whispering, yet still clearly audible to Mark and Madeline.
‘Awex gib speshul mouwfie cweenies wen bed time!’
Fenrir giggled. Alex too, and they nuzzled longingly.
‘Mouthie cleanies? What does that mean?’ Madeline asked Mark, finishing the last of her wine.
‘Don’t ask’ Mark replied, rubbing his face with his palm.
The night drew to a close, Mark’s house soon filling with the sounds of snores. The morning dawned, and just as Madeline had popped in, she popped off, leaving Mark and his two fluffies to resume their normal routine. Mark now knowing that his fluffies could engage in more interactive games, he hoped to find much more to stimulate and educate them. Mark couldn’t be happier. But, it’s said happiness can be fleeting.
In a house not too far away, a fluffy mare bounced to the music of FluffTV on her soft, plush bed in her little mummah’s room. ‘Babbehs am fow huggies an wuv! Huggies an wuv! Huggies an wuv!’
She cooed and made googly eyes at the pretty babies the mares on TV were nursing and singing to. She was extremely jealous, especially since the mares on TV were nowhere near as pretty as her! Little mummah always told her she was the bestest fluffy. She really was! Daddeh was a dummeh, and would always reject when she simply asked for what she deserved! Thankfully little mummah would beg for her, and he would give her what she wanted.
She didn’t know what dummeh daddeh meant by ‘brat’ every time he talked about her, but she didn’t give it much thought. Little mummah always made things better. That’s right! Now she knew what to do!
‘Widduw mummah! Widduw mummah!’ she called.
‘What is it, Priscilla? Having fun?’ the girl answered.
‘Mummah, Pwissy wub babbehs. Wan hab babbehs, can teww daddeh get Pwissy stawwion fow babbehs?’ Priscilla looked up with glassy, pouty, expectant eyes for her mummah to agree wholeheartedly.
‘I don’t know, hun. Daddy doesn’t want any other fluffies right now.’ She didn’t really want to tell her the bad news.
‘Wuh? Buh mummah! Pwissy am bestest fwuffy, bestest fwuffy hab bestest babbehs!’ Priscilla began to get impatient, puffing her cheeks at the mere thought of not getting babies, scaring that thought right away.
The girl sighed, reassuring her precious fluff. ‘Don’t worry Priscilla, I’m sure he’ll come around.’
Priscilla smiled brightly. ‘Dummeh daddeh awways wissen to mummah, mummah am bestest mummah!’ she cooed.
The girl took a moment to slink off, Priscilla still entranced by the babies on the TV. As she poured a glass of juice in the kitchen, she turned to her dad timidly, as he washed dishes in the sink.
‘Dad?’ she began.
Stephane knew what that sound was. She was about to ask for something, but he couldn’t refuse his girl, not usually. ‘What is it, Claire?’
‘It’s about Priscilla…’ she trailed off.
Oh, that brat.
Next Chapter: Chapter XIII
