Feral Friends Chapter 7 [SOLIDUS]

Chapter 7:

You are a foal.

You’ve lived with momma since forever, always kept warm and fed. She holds you, hugs you, sings to you. One day, you move for a long time, and then you end up in a warm place that smells nice, and get even more milk. Something not-momma picks you up and pets you sometimes. You don’t know what it is, but you remember it from before you moved to the nice smelling place. You held it in your little hooves, and tried to suckle it for milk.

It didn’t make milk, which made you sad, but it was warm and you liked when it pet you. One of your sisters has started talking, you hear her.

“Wub Bwudda, Wub sissy, wan spwore with dem!”

“Soon, babbeh, soon. Dey am too wittew, but dey open see-pwaces soon.”

You don’t know what it really means, but you like your sister. She gives you almost as many huggies as momma.

You’re tired. You don’t know what it is to be tired, but you drift off to sleep again.

— — — —

You wake up.

Bright. Too bright, you flinch. Wait…bright? Light? You can….see?

You see a big, fluffy brown mare. You know who she is.

“Mummah! Peep!”

She snaps to look at you. Her face lights up with joy. “BABBEH! DADDEH COME QUICK, BWOWN BABBEH HAVE OPENED SEE-PWACES! AWW BABEHS AM TAWKIES!” She shouts, scooping you up and hugging you, tears of joy running down her face.

You see a not-fluffy walk into the room.

“At last. Let’s name him and his sister, shall we?”

— — — —

You are Hazel. You must be a great Mummah! All 3 babies have opened their see places! They’re not chirpies anymore! They’re walkie-talkie babies now! You’re so proud! You cry tears of joy, the first thing all your babies saw was you. Their first words were “Mummah” and “Wub”.

The little brown foal has the most beautiful blue eyes. You love him. He’s perfect. His white sister, already nursing from you, has big pink eyes, full of love and joy.

You call for Daddy. He must see this, and he promised you he’d name your babies!

It was the best bright time!

— — — —

You are Neapolitan. You’ve finished litterbox training, and no longer chirp or peep. You make only good poopies, and you talk like a big fluffy now! You still have milk, since your teeth aren’t grown in. It hurts, actually, you need your binkie a lot, and your daddy sometimes has to help you sleep with his human magic, but you’re happy. Momma tells you your mouth pain will be over soon, and then you can eat kibble with her! Like a big girl!

You run up as daddy enters the safe room. You love daddy. “Daddeh! Neapowitan make gud poopies!” you cheer, assuming an upsies pose. He gently picks you up. “Good girl, little Neo! You’re such a good fluffy! Let’s go see your brother and sister!”

“Wub bwudda, wub sissy!” You say, wagging your tail.

— — — —

You are Theo. You finished the safe room about 3 days ago, and were unwinding, resting, relaxing, and reading. You hear Hazel shout for you at the top of her furry little lungs. The babies have opened their eyes.

A smile cracks across your face. You’d been waiting for this. You had names picked out, assuming Hazel and the babies liked them. You stand and walk to the safe room, opening the door.

You’re greeted by Neapolitan. She tells you that she’s using the litterbox, and motions to be picked up. You scoop her up and hold her like a cat in your arms, scratching the back of her neck gently, and kneeling before Hazel.

“Name time!” You say cheerfully. Hazel is overjoyed, you can see her crying tears of happiness. She holds the brown foal up to you. “Wook at Bwown babbeh’s pwetty bwue see-pwaces!” She says.

“Wow. Those are pretty! So you….” you say, extending a hand and tickling his round little belly. “You are my special little man, aren’t you?”

The foal giggles “Wub! Chirp!”

“I think your name should be……Chocolate! How about you?” You ask.

Hazel nods “Am gud namsie!” she says.

“Peep! Wub Namsie!” the baby coos.

Neapolitan lazily raises her head “Chocowate gud name for bestest bwudda evew!” she says.

“Then it’s decided. You, my little stallion, shall be named Chocolate!”

The foal is happy, clapping his hooves together and cheering. He wakes his tiny white sister. She looks up at you with pink eyes, peeping.

“Daddeh?” She asks.

“That’s right, I’m your human daddy!” you tell her. “Chrip! Wub!”

Hazel smiles “Babbehs wub daddeh, am gud babbehs!” she says. You pat her head “They’re wonderful babies, Hazel. You’re a good mom. You like the safe room?”

She nods “Safe Woom am vewy gud. Miss making sweepies next to daddeh in pen, but Safe woom have so much space for babbehs to wun and pway, and safe woom so pwetty!”

It was, really. You had emptied the old spare bedroom of your stuff, moving it elsewhere into the house. The room had a window, allowing the fluffies to bask in the warm sunshine or look at the stars at night. There was a power outlet for a nightlight, which you’d given Hazel for the sake of the babies. While she didn’t care about the dark, Neapolitan certainly did.

Explaining that it needed to be plugged in to work was a feat in and of itself. They still didn’t really “get it” , but you called it a victory when they stopped pulling it out of the plug to try and hug it.

The floor was covered with more of the soft, easily cleaned rubber-foam pads that you’d lined the pen with. You’d had to buy more of them to fill the space, but it was worth it. The floor was brightly colored and pleasing to the eye and the feet.

Well, hoof, you supposed.

You’d put the balls, blocks, stuffy friends, literbox, and fluffy beds inside. Each foal had their binkie, Neapolitan stacked her blocks and rolled her ball with her mother, and with you, when she got the chance. You enjoyed playing with her.

Just don’t tell Hazel that the “human magic” for her precious baby’s teething pains was whole milk cut with a drop of Kalua coffee liqueur. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, and the big book of fluffies said it was a good way to help them with it.

The overall effect of the saferoom was a bright, colorful, happy, and inviting place. Perfect nursery for a pack of growing fluffies. Hazel knew full well she could leave the room on demand, but she opted to stay with her babies to feed them, and “To not miss open see-pwaces!”

“Glad you like it. I’m sure they will too. You set Neapolitan down, and picked up her sister. She nuzzled into your palm. This on was a cuddler.

“What do you think, little one, of the name “Mochi”?” He asked. She smiled at you. “Wub namsie! Peep!”

You look at Hazel. “Am pwetty namsie!” she says, nodding in approval. “Bestest Namsie for bestest sissy!” Neapolitan pipes up.

“Your name is Mochi!” You say, petting her gently. She’s happy and content as you pet her, the velvet soft bean-bag of a foal chirps and coos happily. The brown colt tackle-hugs Neapolitan, snuggling his larger sister. “Wub Sissy! Chirp!”

Neapolitan hugs him back, cooing and babbling how much she loved her “Bestest bwudda evew.”

You set Mochi with them, and she whimpers slightly, but quickly cuddles with her siblings. She just wanted snuggles.

The 3 foals cuddle and chirp and peep. You and Hazel look on, smiling. You settle into sitting on the floor proper, and pet your proud mother mare.

“You done good, Hazel.” She looks at you, questioningly. “Look at them. They’re perfect, beautiful. You made them, Hazel. You gave them warmth, and milk, and love, and you got them here in a nice safe warm house. You did this.” you explain. She smiles at you, “Hazew so happy to be gud mummah. Hazew have bestest heart-happies…… stiww have smaww saddies, but so happy……” She says. You give her a one armed hug. “I know you do, girl. But you’re a good fluffy, and a great momma, and you have perfect babies.”

The surreality of grief counseling your own pet isn’t lost on you, but you frankly don’t care. She’s a good fluffy, and she likes to talk with you when the time permits.

The foals are playing with a ball now, pushing it between each other and cheering.

“You lost a lot, Hazel. But I want you to never forget what you have still. You’ll always have them, and me.” You tell her.

She tears up a bit and hugs onto you. “Wub you, Daddeh.”

“Love you too, Hazel.”

“Daddeh?”

“Yeah?”

“You awways have Hazew and babbehs, too.”

“Thanks Hazel.”

The two of you sit and watch the foals play. A quiet, peaceful moment. For the faults they had, fluffies really were wonderful pets. The poop problem was being solved, the constant talking wasn’t that bad as long as you actually engaged them in conversation, and while they had a need for affection, it was genuine and they offered actual empathy and love back.

Well, not so much the foals yet, but they were little more than children yet, and hadn’t been involved in your discussions with Hazel. They very clearly loved you.

The foals eventually peter out and form a fluffpile. Hazel picks them up and moves them to her fluffy bed with her, snuggling down with them, wrapping her tail around them, and singing a mummah song. You motion that you’re leaving, and she gives a small nod.

You quietly stand and close the saferoom door.

Soon, you’d take them to the park and let them make other fluffy friends. You’d let them try spaghetti. You’d let them play in your yard in a fenced in space. There was so much ahead of you all together.

You pull out your phone and send a text to Technician Clarke. You’re hoping you catch her on a break.

Lucky you.

“Foals all talking, eyes open. Played then slept. Named are Chocolate and Mochi.”

“Which one’s which, lol?”

“You know damn well which is which. Anything on Neapolitan?”

“Is she behaving fine?”

“Yeah.”

“Then no. Stop worrying, dude.”

“Hard to do, I love these little critters.”

“I know you do. They’re nice. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Alright.”

“Good man.”

You put your phone back in your pocket. You can’t help but worry a bit. You’ll give it time. Let Neapolitan be a foal for a little bit. Let her teethe and eat kibble like a big girl, and make friends with other foals at the park. Hazel insists she “smells pretty”, and therefor is fine.

Against all reason you decide to trust the judgement of a fluffy.

Worked out for you so far, hadn’t it?

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wonder if Neo maybe has some sort of mutation that causes her to age faster. This of course will likely result in her expiring much sooner than the rest of her family.

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You’ll see.

Eventually, at least. I don’t plan on answering that too soon.

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Oh man. I was actually thinking earlier this very day about making a story where some experimental drug being tested on fluffies caused them to grow and age extremely fast. A poor fluffy watching it’s babbeh painfully outgrow it in a couple of weeks and expire of old age in a couple more lol.

I’m loving the sticky-sweetness of this hugbox series!

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Thank you! I’m glad so many people are enjoying it. I’m told hugbox series that stay hugbox are something of a rare occurrence, so I’m glad to fill that gap and provide something people like reading, and want more of.

And to think, I didn’t even really plan this as a series. It was supposed to be like 3 chapters, but people really loved it, and new ideas kept coming, so I’ve continued to work on it.

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