>Be Mint, a former Domestic who was stolen away from your Mummy by a Feral Herd.
>Having a Special Friend is not nearly the endless source of joy than you thought it would be. Chip always wants Special Huggies, he never seems to want to wait till the Babies are off your back and are asleep, he rarely brings home the good nummies like your Mummy used to give you … sometimes he hits you, if you’re too slow, or you don’t stop talking.
>Still, at least he’s not entirely like the rest of his Herd. When the Herd broke into your Mummy’s garden, they ate everything and pooped everywhere, and Mummy was so mad she drove you out along with them. Even when you shouted ‘Mint hewe, Mummy!‘, Mummy was so angry she didn’t hear you… it breaks your heart more than all the other horrible things that have happened to you.
>Nobody in the Herd stopped the Smarty and his meanie Toughies when they gave you Special Huggies even after you told them that Mummy had said you weren’t allowed to have them, even when you screamed, even when you cried, nobody helped roll you when you bloated with your first babies, and when you finally had your babies, the Smarty took them from you and gave them to other Mummas who had lost their babies to Munstas and other Herds.
>You never even got to hold them even once… if not for Chip, you’re sure you would be forced to have Special Huggies with the Smarty and his Toughies right now in the Herd’s dingy, filthy warren, watching the three babies you have now being doled out to the scarred, filthy Mares who constantly squabbled and bickered over who was the prettiest Mare, who was the best Fluffy Mumma, who made the best Babies.
>Several bright-times ago, in the dark of the night, Chip came into the small chamber you’d been forced to stay in and said that the Smarty wanted the ‘Speshaw Huggies Mawe’ taken outside to make her not-pretties, because he wanted to have some late-night Special Huggies, and didn’t want the mare to poop on him if she got scared.
>It had taken Chip and two other Toughies to roll you out of the Warren at that stage, you were so big… and according to the few Mares who didn’t immediately swat you for talking to them, it was a bad thing fora Fluffy Mumma like you to have Special Huggies.
>But as you sobbed and begged for the Toughies to take you home, to take you away from all these horrible things that had happened to you, something strange occurred.
>Chip shrieked in fear, then turned to the other Toughies and had sworn he’d seen a Munsta, and that the other Toughies had to go back and make sure the Smarty knew.
>Chip then offered to stay behind and guard you, but by then, the Toughies were already pushing and shoving each other as they tried to squeeze down the entrance to the Herd’s warren at the same time.
>"Dun’ wowwy, dewe nu Munsta, but Chip wan’ hewp yuu! Dis nu guud Hewd, we gu bawk tu yuu Hoomin an’ wive dere!" He whispered to you, and you were slowly rolled away into the night, sobbing and whispering how grateful you were…
>You’re getting closer to home, you know it. You remember the smell of the flowering bushes that your Mummy loved so much. And even though spring has given way to summer, you recognise the houses nearby.
>Mummy lives in the street with hibiscus bushes that grow along the back of the houses in place of fences, where there’s a big house with pretty, many-coloured windows that’s right next to Mummy’s house. You remember it well because you used to sit in the backyard and stare at the pretty windows a lot.
>The problem is that now Mummy’s house has a fence behind the hibiscus bushes, so you can’t go back in the way you were forced to leave.
>So now you wander the street, trying desperately to find a way back into Mummy’s house… but Chip keep saying you can’t wait at the front gate like you want to. He wants to sneak in, and you know that will make Mummy mad at you.
>Deep in your heart, you know Chip doesn’t actually want you to go back to Mummy, that this cunning, leecherous Feral wants you to stay and make babies for him forever …
>But more than that, you fear he will beat you and leave you alone, make you so ugly and pitiful that even if you do find Mummy again, she won’t be able to tell it was you, just like when the Herd first found you, and made Mummy so mad she couldn’t tell you apart from the Herd of Fluffies that had ruined her garden.
>So you graze to keep your strength up, while flicking your eyes around, trying to look for landmarks … and a way to escape Chip’s reach with your Babies intact.
>You’re right next door to Mummy’s house. You can SEE it over the fence that separates this place from Mummy’s … but how to check for holes in the fence with Chip shadowing you like …
>Peep peep peep cheep peep!
>“Wha? Babies, wha’ wong?” You ask, feeling a chill ripple up and down your spine. Your babies sound … scared. But their eyes aren’t open yet, the mean Feral Mares said that Babies didn’t open their eyes for a little while after birth, and you only just gave birth this morning…
>Chip wanted to stay and make a warren of his own… you would have none otf it.
>The moment he can force you into a hole, you know he’ll do all in his power to keep you there, to give him a Herd made up of your babies, you just know it!
>Craning your head over your shoulder, you see one baby, two babies … Giant Fluffy with the most beautiful eyes, and your Grey Baby dangling from its mouth.
>Oh, that’s alright then…
>Wait, what?
>Be Chip, the Pink Pegasus Stallion.
>Finally, you have a Special Friend … even if the babies are dummies that belong to the Smarty Friend. Or one of the Toughies. Honestly, Mint was given so many Special Huggies by so many Stallions, they could be anyone’s.
>Except yours, of course. Hnnnnnnnrrrrrrrrgh…
>Pfft. Soon, they’ll grow up and leave … or get eaten… or… something.
>Then you can give Mint good babies … babies like you, who are pretty and brave and strong.
>And maybe she’s right, and her Mummy really does still love her. Then you can take Mint home, tell the Mummy that you saved Mint, and that you and Mint are Special Friends.
>Not only will you have babies of your own, but a Hoomin Mummy …
>Nobody will ever laugh at your colouration again. And if you and Mint have enough babies, you might be able to put together a Herd, with your Colts being your Toughies, and your Fillies being the bait you use to lure other, smaller Herds to join you.
>A strong Herd, loyal to you, with a Hoomin to protect, feed and love you all… it would be like a dream come true!
>You can’t stop grinning at the idea… if only Mint wasn’t so hell-bent on getting back to her Mummy right now, you’re sure you could give her better babies, so her Mummy would love her more.
>" Speshaw Fwiend …“” You hear Mint whisper, and the peeping of her babies …
>Her Babies. Not yours. Not good, pretty, smarty babies like you…
>“Speshaw Fwiend, Mint nee’ yuu …”" She says again, and you roll your eyes and stop grazing long enough.
>“Oh, wha’ now, nee’ tu eat gwassies su yuu baybehs haf miwk!”" You retort shortly before returning to your grazing.
>Does she think tasty grass like this grows just anywhere? Stuuuupid Domestic! This is a veritable treasure- trove of sweet grass, all for the two of them!
>Okay, so it’s not pretty grass like what grows in some of the Hoomin’s gardens, but it’s so, so much sweeter than what you can forage for in the Parks and scrub-land!
>“Bu-buh dewe is kitteh-munsta! Biggest kitteh-munsta Mint eva seen!”" She whimpers.
>Okay, that got your attention. Kitteh-Munstas are terrible, they are faster than any Fluffy, even a Pegasus like you, and they can go anywhere a Fluffy can, and they can climb, and they…
>They’re just a really, really tough Munsta.
>Slowly turning, with your wings fluttering nervously, you look around and see… a giant Fluffy with one of Mint’s dummeh babies hanging from its mouth.
>Stuuuuuuupid Domestic! That’s a Fluffy … admittedly, the biggest Fluffy you’ve ever seen, but…!
>But as the Giant Fluffy walks over and gently drops the baby on the grass by the cowering Mint’s face, he looks at you and yawns.
>Gif Special Huggies tu my poopie-place! You shriek in your mind. Fangs! The more you look, the more you realise Mint was right! No hooves, whiskers, those eyes …
>“KITTEH MUNSTAAAAAAAAAAA!” You scream, staggering around and running for the nearest bush, spraying sorry poopies as you do to try and keep yourself safe!
>You’re halfway to the bush when you realise Mint is still on the grass, trying to hide behind her hooves, and groan in frustration.
>Stupid, dummy, idiotic Domestic!