Fluff and Co. Part 11 (by roguesoul)

Fluff and Co Part 11

by roguesoul

TAP

You jumped at the knock at the window, lost in thought, and you quickly unlocked the door- motioning for the familiar face to get in. Kevin looked like a drenched rat, a greasy little man who eager hopped into your car- the cardboard box in his hands protected with a damp blanket. “Hey-hey, man, how you doin?” He pulled out a lighter, and like an old habit you passed him a cigarette.

You’d met him in high school, spending lunches hiding behind the dumpster, bumming a joint between each other- and while you’d never really liked the man, he made sophomore year bearable. He lit it and took a deep breath, and your nose wrinkled as smoke filled the car, and you turned on the air to help circulate it out.

“So, how you been?” He asks, and your hand moves to scrub down your face. He chuckles and pulls something out of his pocket, and you let out a dry laugh taking it. “That bad?!” He lights it and you take a small drag.

“Shop’s a mess,” you say with a small cough, this was crap weed, but you take it anyway. “Between Nightshade boycotting foals, Connie fighting me with every chance she gets- and geez,” you take another drag, noticing the look on his face continuing, “Gala is nearly dead on her hooves taking care of eleven foals.”

He chuckles, moving his hand to toast against yours, “That’s why you needed my help then- or well my bosses,” you groan, head laying back against the seat. You know he has a shit eating grin on his face and you try to ignore him, before glancing back to see him handing you the box.

“Listen man,” you meet his eyes, taking the box in your hands- there’s a small sound from the box, but you ignore it for now. “Listen, this cannot go back to anyone, between you, me and-” you pull the money out of your pocket, bills crumbled, passing them to Kevin- “A few founding fathers,” you drawl.

“I get it, don’t want anyone to know the Ah-Mazin’ breeder needs a broodmare from Fluffmart,” you wince, putting out your smoke, hands moving to the box. It stung your pride, but you needed this.

Needed her.

You open the box, shaking your head. The mare inside’s eyes were watering, tear lines dripping down her fur. She was a full pillow, the scars long since healed over, off white plush fur having grown over her shoulders and hips. Her peach mane hung in her eyes, but her tail had been sliced off from the base, the stump short and nubby. She glances up at you, before quickly looking down, and you see her shift and roll using her chest.

You shut it, the mare silent aside from a worried sounding hum. “Like I said,” you glance at Kevin, “Nobody needs to know, right?” He nods, pocketing the cash, pulling to get out of the car- wait-

“Hold on,” he stops, tucking in to avoid the rain, “What’s her name?”

Kevin’s eyes narrow, before he gives a small humorless chuckle, “Her name’s Twenty Three.”


The mare was strange.

You’d opened the box up so she could see on the way home, keeping the radio low, but she still hadn’t said a word as you drove back to the shop. She was, surprisingly well taken care of, more so than you’d thought- aside from the body modification she would fit right in with your own mares. Good size, good weight, and her colors were nice compared to what you expected of a broodmare.

At the same time, she hadn’t said a single word, though you saw that she was looking out the window when she wasn’t watching you or looking at the floor. Her blue eyes were soft, but you could see gears turning in her- at least a little.

Kevin hadn’t told you much, just that she was about five months old, and hadn’t worked out as a breeder. Despite being technically an adult for two months now, she was terribly undersized, and that worried you. You didn’t know how many times she’d been bred, but considering she was from a Fluffmart mill you doubted it was good. You pull into the shop parking lot, looking back at the mare.

“Home sweet home,” the mare’s ears flattened, and you parked, moving to pick up the box. She flinches, but doesn’t speak, and you clear your throat. “Eyes on me, Twenty Three-” at her name she snaps to look at you, and a fresh wave of tears prick at her eyes. You force a small smile of your face, trying to give a show of calmness, but the mare’s breathing only hitches.

“Easy there,” she doesn’t relax, her breathing picking up into panting and you reach in to touch her-

“Pwe-pwease!” her voice is just above a whisper, rough from lack of use, and you pull your hand back to look at her. Least she was talking, you’d been worried they’d snipped her vocal chords. She swallows, and you see terror plain on her face, and she looks down.
“Twen-twe-twe-twee-sowwee,” she manages to get out, her words choked around her broken breathing, and you reach down a hand to comfort her- only to stop and grab the box instead. “Sowwe, sowwe, nu-nu taw- nu tay-” she frantically continues, words slurring, and you clear your throat, watching her eyes desperately look to meet yours. “Pwee, soww-”

“It’s alright,” you cut her off, voice calm as you give her a small nod, “You aren’t in trouble, Twenty Three.” She looks at you with wide eyes, jaw dropping slightly, before she looks down. You wait for her to respond, to say anything- not used to flufffies being this quiet- but she just bites her lip and you manage to hold back a sigh, picking up the box.

You lift her up easily, resting the box under one arm as you lock your car and carry her up towards the back of the store. Despite, despite everything that had been happening lately- you were still so proud of the little place. This was a dream you never thought you wanted, but now that you had it, you didn’t want to let it go.

Besides the good had to outweigh the bad, it had to…it had to.

It had to.

End of Part 11

Sorry, for the short chapter, but Part 12 will be out real soon- with a slightly different perspective…

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