You’re a feral fluffy soon-mummah, and you just woke up to the worst pain in your special place. At first, you think something’s gone wrong, but then you involuntarily cry out, “BIGGEST POOPIES!” your babies are coming! You do your best to get into a better position and start pushing. You wish you weren’t all alone in your hidey-hole.
Push, push, “SCREEEEEEEE!” One baby…
Push, push, “OWWIES!” Two babies…
Push, push, “HUUHUUHUU!” Three babies…
A gush of yikkies comes splashing out, and you’re done. For a moment you consider going back to sleep, but then you hear it…
“Chirp!” “Peep!” “Cheep-speep!”
“B-babbehs nee’ wickie-cweanies an’ miwkies…” you say to nobody in particular, or maybe yourself. With that, you turn around and set to licking your brood clean. As you do this, you see that the first baby is a filly who is a pink baby who has a horn just like you, and the second is a colt who also has a horn and is green just like your mummah. The third baby…
As you set the other two down on your milky-places to feed, you pick the third one up to clean it, as well as get a better look at it. Sure enough, just as you thought, it’s a blue colt with wings and a horn. Just like your special friend.
The special friend your herd chased away for being a wingy-pointy. “Munsta gib fwend bad enfies!” they’d cried, all the while biting and kicking at him. The smarty also tried to give him sorry poopies, but he got away before any of it hit him.
“Peep!” you look down from your now clean wingy-pointy baby, to see that the filly has de-latched from your milky-place, and is full and happy. You set the colt down to feed and pick up his sister to give her huggies. You know the herd will never accept a wingy-pointy, even if it is only a little baby. You’ve seen what the other mares do to their wingy-pointy babies. You know the herd will try to make you do the same to your baby.
But you can’t do that, not to your baby! Not this tiny replica of the special friend that you miss so much! But what can you do? Then it dawns on you; Humans. You’ve heard that humans like wingy-pointies more than other types of fluffies. Maybe you can get one to take your baby home with them?
Your mind is made up. As soon as your colts are full of milkies, you’ll have to sneak out to find a human mummah or daddeh for your wingy-pointy baby.
Some forevers later, you are sitting by the flat rock that the vroom-vroom monsters run on near some human houses. You hold up your wingy-pointy baby to every human that walks by you, as your other two babies cling to your legs.
“Pwease, be nyu mummah fo‘ wingie-pointie babbeh?”
“Nu hab tu bwing mummah, jus’ sabe babbeh fwom hewd…”
“Pwease sabe babbeh nice mistah, mummah wub babbeh…”
Finally, a little mister and his mummah agree to give your baby a home. You don’t want to say goodbye, but you feel you have no choice. You give your baby one last huggy, and let the humans take him away. You place your other babies on your back, and head back to your herd. You tell the herd you were looking for nummies to make milkies.
You never see your wingy-pointy baby again. It hurts, but you know you did the right thing…