Filling the Space Pt. 7 [By MuffinMantis]

Part Six

Mikhael was ripped from the first peaceful sleep he’d had in what seemed like forever by the persistent ringing of his phone. Groggily, he picked up the device, seriously considering rejecting the call. However, he knew that James, for all his lack of social grace, wasn’t the type to call for no reason in the middle of the night, so he answered.

“What do you want James?”

“Well, I have good news and I have bad news.”

“Just tell me so I can go back to sleep.”

“Go back to sleep? It’s 3 in the afternoon.”

Mikhael finally woke up enough to notice that the time was indeed 3 P.M., and not 3 A.M. as he’d assumed.

“Look,” he growled. “I haven’t exactly been getting the best sleep lately with your ‘assignment,’ thanks to all the nightmares, so I’d appreciate it if you let me try to catch up on the one day off I have.”

“Well then, you should be very happy to hear this. I want you to stop trying to remind Samantha about the incident. I’ve determined that even if you succeeded she’d probably be too furious with the both of us to help anyway, so I’m looking for an alternative.”

Mikhael perked up a bit at that. “That’s…James, to be honest, I didn’t think you were capable of actually saying something that’d make me genuinely not hate you for a few minutes.”

“Well, hold on to that good mood, because the bad news is that we lost our sponsor, so the plan will have to go on hold until I can find a new one.”

“How? She seemed completely on-board with the plan.”

“Well, her son got a high-ranking position at Herod Pharmaceuticals, and money speaks louder than principle. I’ll get it fixed. For the time being, you just focus on being God’s gift to small animals, and I’ll contact you again when I’ve worked everything out.”

James, never the type to spend time on farewells, abruptly hung up. MIkhael turned over and tried to fall back to sleep, but his excitement at this figurative stay of execution preventing him from sleeping. That and, now that he was fully awake, he realized that Rose was probably very hungry and absolutely livid.



Sam was always amazed how quickly fluffies grew. Compared to humans, of course, most animals reached maturity quite quickly, but from her, admittedly sparse, knowledge of biology, fluffies’ rate of growth was something exceptional. True, there were downsides to the growth rate, oh so many downsides, like shortened lifespan, bones that never had time to fully develop, and of course the massive amount of energy required to fuel that accelerated cellular division. Still, just because something wasn’t perfect didn’t mean it wasn’t miraculous, and expectations should always be tempered, even regarding miracles.

Sam sat alone, not able to show her face around Knight and Hope for the time being. Since the foals were born, she’d had to explain the concept of birth control to the pair. Explaining complex topics in general could be awkward with fluffies, due to their childlike psyche, but the topic of reproduction was especially embarrassing to explain. That, and she’d had to tell the pair that they’d have to refrain from intimacy until the foals were weaned and she could start Hope on hormonal birth control; in many creatures the problem wouldn’t have occured, due to dramatically reduced fertility prior to young being weaned, but in the case of fluffies this particular safeguard had been removed as a hindrance to more rapid production.

The pair weren’t very happy about the situation, understandably. Fluffies weren’t exactly paragons of self-control to begin with, and Hasbio had been careful to maximize their desire to breed to ensure that there would always be a good supply of stock during development. However, they’d agreed to abstain for the time being since any additional foals would have to be given to new families or taken to the shelter, and that loss would be too painful to bear. Sam hated to do this, but it was a far better option than neutering. She might not be the best owner a fluffy could ask for, but she at least kept her promises.

Sam didn’t want to spend too much time away from the fluffy family, as the foals had opened their eyes shortly before. Sam knew that this usually heralded the foals becoming talkie-babbehs, and she hoped to give them names as soon as they were able to talk. She already had names ready, but the giving of names was a momentous occasion for fluffies, and she wanted them to be the first to know their new names.

She watched the family on the foal-cam she’d reinstalled into the saferoom. She trusted Hope and Knight, but she knew that the first few weeks of a foal’s life were full of dangers, even in a place carefully designed to be as safe as possible. She’d seen foals climb to the top of the fluffpile and fall, sometimes breaking one of their fragile limbs. She wanted to be ready just in case to be able to help as soon at possible.

She fully intended to remove the camera once the foals were old enough to not be in constant danger from their own fragility. Trust was something she was adamant on. She would NOT spy on the fluffies, and if they did something bad, she’d just cross that bridge when she came to it. Slipping back into old habits was the last thing she wanted, now or ever.

The sisters were a little small when they were born, so she wasn’t sure of the developmental timeline. Mikhael had said it could affect the time it took them to speak, when she’d asked, since they weren’t as developed prior to birth as a normal foal. He’d made sure to stress that they’d be fine, however, maybe just a bit slower to speak than normal.

As for the red rescue foal, there was no way to predict when or if he’d ever speak. His eyes seemed to be fine, despite being forced open early, but she could tell he was still burdened by what had happened to him. HIs fluff had started to grow back, although it was patchy, which was a good sign, as many cases of acid-burns left permanent scars. Hope still treated the little guy as one of her own foals, and didn’t comment on the bald spots. Sam never heard either of the adults refer to him as anything other than “wed babbeh,” and she certainly never heard them call him “ugwy” or “dummeh.” She knew she was more blessed than she deserved to have them.

Sam had a hunch that the foals would start talking either today or the next day. Well, maybe hunch wasn’t quite the right word, as she’d spent years volunteering at various shelters and had learned the early signs of a foal preparing to speak for the first time. But she was being extra vigilant, not wanting to miss the foals’ first words and wanting to offer them names as soon as possible.



Hope was feeding the foals, carefully swapping them out so each would get their share of the milkies. She loved them all so much, and she almost couldn’t imagine a life without them anymore. Sometimes, when she had bad dreams, she would lose them, and she always awoke from those dreams shaking. This new life was precious, but something in her wouldn’t let her forget how cruel the world could be.

They’d opened their eyes recently, which made her so happy. Such pretty eyes, big and full of love. Here, in the peaceful quiet of the saferoom, the old world seemed so far away. Here, she had everything she’d ever wanted. The happiness was almost too much to take.

She picked up the yellow alicorn, interrupting her nursing. However, instead of the normal peep of annoyance, she was greeted with a small cry of “Miwkies…babbeh wan miwkies!” As if taking a cue from the little alicorn, her sister stopped nursing for a moment to chirp “Babbeh wuv miwkies” before returning to nursing. The red babbeh stayed silent, though.

Hope looked to Knight, and for a moment they shared their happiness. The babbehs were talkie-babbehs now! They were growing up so big and strong! After all they’d been through, this seemed like a dream, too perfect to be real.

“Mummah! Babbehs am tawkie nao!” Knight called, wanting mummah to share in the moment. Hope was happy that mummah would be happy too, but a little part of her wanted to share this moment with just her special-friend. Still, babbehs’ first words were something for the whole herd to rejoice in, so she tried her best to forget that twinge of jealousy.



Sam awoke suddenly, realizing she’d dozed off while watching the video from the foal-cam. It happened a lot, actually, the peacefulness lulling her to sleep. But a louder voice than normal had startled her from her slumber, and she realized after a moment that Knight had called for her. Rubbing her eyes, she half-staggered to the saferoom.

She was greeted by a jumbled cacophony, both fluffies trying to speak at once until their words melded together into a mess she couldn’t understand. The fluffies didn’t stop speaking, however, so she couldn’t make out what was going on. That changed when a small, high voice asked “Hoomin mummah?”

Sam shook with excitement. This was the most important moment of a fluffy’s development. She stepped into the saferoom carefully, since although the foals since become used to her presence they lacked situational awareness and there was significant risk of one running under her feet. It’d been a long time since she’d been there when a foal became a talkie-babbeh.

"Hewwo, hoomin mummah!

"Babbeh wuv hoomin mummah!

“Hello, you two.”

Sam leaned down and picked up the alicorn, causing her to burble happily. Half of the things she said weren’t words, but that was to be expected with foals this young. However, there was a sound that she wasn’t expecting.

“NUUU! Nu take sissie! Nu huwt!”

The happiness was suddenly mixed with sadness. The poor red foal had been through so much, and his first words should have been happy, not full of fear. Sam carefully set the alicorn down, and moved closer to the red foal, who peeped and tried to move behind Hope. However, he was stopped and held up to see Sam, cowering in terror.

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt her, or you. I’m your human mummah, and I promise I’ll NEVER hurt you.”

“Hoomin munstahs bad! Gib famiwy forebah-sweepies! Nu wike!”

“Nu!” Knight interrupted. “Hoomin mummah am gud! Sabe famiwy fwom cowd-times! Gib housie an’ nummies an’ toysies!”

“Nu wike! Nu wike! NU WIKE!”

Sam pondered this for a moment. The foal was probably terrified of humans in general, although he’d seemed okay with her at first. Perhaps she’d awoken a memory in him when he picked up the alicorn. Usually, Hope held him nearly constantly, so Sam hadn’t had much contact with him since the first day she’d brought him home. A major oversight, in retrospect.

“Babbeh nu be scawed. Hoomin mummah nu huwt. Am nice wady, nu munstah wike owd hoomin daddeh…” Hope’s words seemed to calm the foal, but he still gazed at Sam warily.

“I’m so happy you’re all talkie-babbehs,” Sam said, pretending the outburst had never happened until she could come up with a better way to handle it. “How about we celebrate? Would you like names?”

“Namsies! Babbeh wan namesies!”

“Wan!”

“Bad babbeh can habe namsies?”

“What do you mean, bad babbeh?”

“Owd daddeh say babbeh am bad babbeh fow nu sabe famiwy…”

Christ, what some people do to fluffies. “Look, you aren’t a bad babbeh. Your old daddeh was just a bad daddeh, so don’t believe what he said. You’re a good babbeh, and you can have a name just like your sisters.”

The red foal simply broke down and sobbed, unable to handle his emotions. I don’t know how anyone can put a foal through that, Sam seethed.

“First, your name will be Sunbeam,” Sam told the alicorn.

“Sunbeam wuv nyu namesies! Tank 'ou, hoomin mummah!”

“Your name will be Aqua.

“Wuv nyu namsies!”

“And your name will be Victor.” After all, he could use a win right about now.

But Victor merely sobbed.

Part Eight

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the feels
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I dont like that that James been talkin the pharmaceutical thingy, something is fishy with these two. But will wait what revelation you gonna show us @MuffinMantis

Poor Victor whoever that asshole is it messed him up that bad to fear humans.

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Victor has a silent reeeee on the name I see. :frowning: