The calm before the real storm. Imma make part 2 a bloodbath. Anyways hope you folks enjoy.
You stands on your front porch looking out over your farm as the sun sets. You sip your coffee and sit back in an old rocking chair. Frosting runs around in the now fenced in front lawn chasing a beach ball with her newly aquired foals.
She hated when when you fenced in the yard immediately around your house as she enjoyed running and playing where she wanted but after you handled the feral herd you figured it’d be safer for her if you fenced her a play area in.
You’ve decided to name the foals Mustard and Ketchup given their colors. They took to frosting as a surrogate mother rather easily. Especially considering they watched their cruel real mother get gunned down. It was probably a relief for them to be free of the bitch mare.
You haven’t seen sign of any other sign of ferals since the last time. Hopefully the smarty you castrated then let live spread the word about your property being guarded by a monster.
“Swow downsies mummah! Mustawd nu fast nuff!”
Mustard says.
“Babbeh gotta get fast! Pway bestest!”
Frosting yells still chasing the ball.
You’ve installed camera’s linked to your phone inside of the old and new barns along with several other points on your property. Just in case anyone decides to take up residence.
“Mummah wook! Babbeh catch baww!”
Ketchup proudly exclaims as he corners the ball by the fence.
“Gud job keshup! Mummah fwosin hab bestest babbehs eba! Wub keshup and wub mustawd!”
Frosting exclaims giving Huggies to her adopted foals.
You stand up as the sun finally goes behind the horizon.
“Alright you three. It’s dinner time. Come on in.”
“Otay Daddeh! Cum on babbehs. Am Nummie time!”
The three waddle into the house. You walk into the kitchen. You fill a bowl full of kibble for frosting and begin heating up some formula for the foals. They’ve already grown substantially in the week you’ve had them. Turns out not being starved to death makes you put on the pounds.
You sit the bowl down in front of frosting.
“Fank ou Daddeh. Fwosin wub gud kibbwe.”
She starts eating. The babies look at you longingly.
“… Daddeh?.. Is it miwkie time foh babbehs?”
Mustard asks. You lift them up sitting them up on the counter.
“You know it little guy.”
You fill the bottle you bought from the fluffy mart a few days ago with the warmed foal formula and start feeding ketchup.
“Mustawd wub Daddeh. Wub nyu mummah tu. Eben if nyu mummah nu gib babbehs miwkies.”
He chatters on as ketchup greedily suckles on the bottle. Finally once the bottle is empty he lets out a cute little burp and makes way for his brother.
“Fank ou foh miwkies Daddeh.”
He says. Mustard runs up eagerly waiting as you refill the bottle.
“YAY! MIWKIES FOH MUSTAWD!”
He does the same as his brother. Ketchup now with a full belly yawns and curls up to nap on the kitchen counter. As mustard finishes he yawns. You take the two to their safe room and place them on frostings bed. Frosting soon joins placing the napping foals in her soft blue fluff before laying down herself. You shut and lock the safe room door leaving them be.
You make yourself your standard dinner of microwaved pizza with an orange soda and sit back on your couch turning on the TV. You normally don’t care for the news but you don’t mind the local channels.
You sit back as the newscaster tells a story about the local Highschool Tennis team when you get a notification on your phone from one of the cameras you put out. You notice it’s camera four. You put this one out on a tree in the wooded section of your farm.
This wasn’t uncommon as deer tend to stay around that area. You open the camera and to your surprise you see infrared pictures of what looks to be another herd of Fluffies. You sigh knowing what you have to do. Usually you’d wait until the morning but you’ve been waiting for an occasion to try out your new toy. You head to your room and start gearing up. Same as last time. Your snake boots, ghillie suit, and your AR-15. Like your AR you planned to use your new toy for Coyote hunting at night but fluffy hunting works too. You put your night vision goggles on before pulling your hood over your head. You check to make sure frosting and the foals were locked safe and sound in the safe room. You had a camera installed there too just for the hell of it.
You put your backpack on and head out on your mission.
You hike to the wooded part of your property then start sneaking as you enter the treeline. Don’t wanna let them know you’re there until you’re ready. Finally you get to where your camera is. You stop and look around. You see them all gathered together in a small clearing nearby. You sneak up behind the biggest tree and take aim. You can’t tell which is the smarty because they’re all the same size. Despite seeing some with crotch tits you don’t see any foals.
They start talking.
“Huuhuu… Wassbewwy miss babbehs. Huuhuu.”
“Shh quiet. Dey might heew us!”
One of them snaps.
Another mare walks over to the one called raspberry.
“Aww ob us miss babbehs wassbewwy. Buh we nee be quiet. Uddawise owd munstah hewd find us.”
Something wasn’t right these weren’t like the herds you’ve heard about and experienced. You thought about approaching them but that would probably scare them off. You decide to do the next best thing.
You walk a little ways away to an old fire pit you used for camping out. Far enough away where the fire shouldn’t scare them off but close enough that your plan should work. You take off your goggles.
You make a small campfire in the pit. Your backpack still had some camping supplies in it. You take out your little tin frying pan and a can of pork and beans.
You cook the beans over the fire making sure you stir them frequently letting the smell waft out.
It takes about ten minutes but finally you hear a twig snap beside you. You slowly look over as a yellow fluffy slowly walks towards you.
“H… Hewwo? Nummies smeww pwetty. Can… Can ou pwease shawe wif fwuffy?”
He says heading towards you. Finally he emerges from the trees and looks at you.
“M-m-mossy munstah!?!”
He says in shock looking at you. Apparently the old smarty must have done as you’d said. You decide to play into your role as the mossy monster. After all you did used to be a theater nerd back in highschool.
“Be not afraid little one. I have deemed you safe to be on my land.”
It seems hesitant before stepping forward. In the light you can make out more features. Along with seeing more sets of little round fluffy eyes behind them.
He was a yellow pegasus stallion with a blue mane. Not bad colors. Especially for a feral.
“You can tell your comrades to come out. You are safe here.”
You say dumping the pork and beans in a straight line on the ground.
“You can have it but you all must share.”
Four more adult Fluffies walk out behind him.
They line up beside the beans and start eating. The stallion looks up at you.
“Fank ou mistah munstah. Fwuffy was su hungwy.”
He says before joining his friends.
You allow them to finish eating. The mares continue to lick the ground.
“Where did you come from? Where is your smarty?”
You ask. As you say smarty an unease falls over the small group.
“Nu hab smawty. Smawty in owd hewd. Smawty bad. Smawty he… He gib aww babbehs fowevew sweepies.”
One of the mares starts crying.
“He say nu mow dummeh babbehs. He say aww babbehs haf ta be smawty ow toughie babbehs onwy. Huuhuuhuuhuu! He gib fwuffy an wassbewwies babbehs wowstest sowwy hoofsies an hab toughies make fwuffy watchie.”
He seems to break down at this point.
“We wun way but we no he fowwowing. He nu wet wassbewwy an udda mawes weeb. He wan aww mawes in hewd ta be his Enfie mawes. Huuhuuhuu!”
He continues to cry.
“How did you get away little one?”
You ask. Raspberry walks up to comfort the stallion.
“Smawty twy to take wassbewwies Speciaw fwens Speciaw wumps away. He do dat ta ebewy udda stawion in hewd. Speciaw fwen gib sowwy poopies an wun. Wassbewwy an udda mawes who wost babbehs wun wif Speciaw fwen.”
These guys have been through a lot. If they’re right that shit head smarty is gonna come through here. With these guys being so well tempered the shelter should take the lot.
“I’ll help.”
You say. The stallion looks up at you with tears in his eyes.
“Wha?”
He says.
“Your tears have moved me little one. You’ve gained the protection of the mossy monster. I will take care of this smarty and his herd if they come on my land. I can also ensure that you will be taken to a safe place far away from him, But you must trust me.”
The stallion looks a bit sceptical at first. Raspberry nudges him.
“Special fwen. Nice munstah gib Nummies. He nu bad munstah. He hewp us.”
He nuzzles raspberry before looking back at you.
“Otay. We twust mistah munstah.”
You put the fire out and lead them to the old barn where you killed the last herd. You’ve since cleaned the viscera and burned the fluffy corpses.
“You may rest here but I’ll have to lock the door to keep anyone out. Do not worry about food. I’ll bring you some in the morning. For now. Rest.”
The Fluffies eagerly wander in.
“Speciaw fwen wook! We sweep in housie!”
Raspberry says.
“Oooh nyu housie suuuuuu pwetty!”
Another mare says.
The stallion looks around than looks at you still tearful.
“Sniffle fank ou mistah munstah. Fwuffy nu ebah sweep in housie befoh. sniffle”
You shut the door and lock it from the outside.
On your way back to your house you think about what the stallion said. If he’s telling the truth this is by far the worst smarty you’ve encountered. Plus considering he’s the only stallion in the little group you’re gonna guess he was probably the only male in their herd that wasn’t a toughie or already castrated.
Tomorrow you’ll drop them off at the shelter well at least the mares. You may be a softie but you wanna see if you can find a home that’ll take the stallion and his special friend. Don’t wanna separate a family… Well… A GOOD family that is.
The next day you decide to not let Frosting or the foals outside despite their protests. You dress up and take the ferals their food. Just dry kibble but that doesn’t stop them from absolutely digging in.
“Bestest nummies ebah! Wub nice munstah!” One yells.
“Stawwite wuuuuub gud Nummies. Been su hungwy foh suuuu Wong!”
She says.
You figure raspberry and this star light used to be domestics given their names. Most feral fluffy names are plain and simple. If they have them at all.
You look at the male.
“Do you have a name little one?”
You ask the stallion who’s now laying there with a distended stomach.
“Fwuffy nu hab namesies. Onwy mawes an Toughies git namesies in owd hewd.”
Jesus Christ these things have a brutal class system.
You think for a minute.
“The humans of this world write of a great hero who once through faith lead his people to freedom. I can think of no name more fitting for one such as you. You shall be. Moses.”
Honestly you’re having too much fun with this being in character thing. You start to feel like you’re in a movie. The fluffy looks at you.
“F…fwuffy can hab namesies? Fwuffy am Mosees?”
He asks. Despite the failed attempt to pronounce the simple name you agree.
“Yes. You are Moses.”
You lock the door back and head back to your house.
You look all day for places that will take two feral fluffies but come up dry. You text your sister and have her start keeping an ear out. You call the local shelter. Great Wheels Of Sketti. The woman agrees to take the other four mares.
You tell them the next day. Despite Moses’s protests you assure him that they are going to a safe place where they’ll be fed everyday.
“Weawy? Can Mosees an wassbewwy go tu?”
He asks.
“I’m sorry Little one. I’m looking for a home for you. I wish to keep you and your special friend together. The place I’m sending the mares to will keep you and her apart.”
He pouts but you think he understands. You load the mares up in your truck and drop them off at the shelter.
“Fank ou foh nyu homesies mistah steeb. Teww da mossy munstah fank ou too pwease!”
Star light yells as you leave. The lady behind the counter gave her a weird look when she said mossy monster but must have figured it to just be fluffy nonsense.
You head back to the farm. Frosting greets you as you walk in the door.
“DADDEH DADDEH GUESS WHAT!?!”
She says giving the upsies pose. You grab her and lift her up.
“What is it girl?”
You ask.
“Fwosin see hoooowe bunch ob udda fwuffies out window dis bwight time!”
Your blood goes cold for a moment. This must be the herd that was after Moses and his herd. How had your cameras not alerted you. You look at your phone and see alerts before you realize. Your phone had been on silent. FUCK!
You hurry and check the old barn. Thankfully the door was still shut and you see Moses with his special friend sleeping inside.
You breath a sigh of relief… Until you look at the other cameras.
The camera by your tomato patch took many pictures of the ferals herd of what had to be atleast twenty Fluffies devouring as many of your tomatoes as they an handle. Some eating the vines all the way to the ground. You see the biggest and what must be the smarty. A fat blue unicorn all scarred up from What must have been many fluffy fights. All the mares you see look very pregnant. Must be his new brood that Moses was telling you about.
The camera by your house cought them trying to break down your fence. Then to tunnel under it. Thank god you didn’t cheap out and concreted that sucker in the ground. The last camera that activated was in your current barn. You look in and see the bastards have all decided to rest in your hay piles. A few have torn open a few bags of corn you’d saved for deer feed from last year’s harvest. The smarty lays in the middle of the hay surrounded by what must be his toughies. The smaller males keep bringing mouthfulls of corn to the group. Good lord he must think he’s Caesar. You’ve decided to name him Pharaoh. Keeping to the theme you’ve named Moses. That familiar anger in your gut builds watching the herd devour your hard earned crops.
You act as if nothing’s wrong and sit frosting down. Scratching behind her ears. You see the foals asleep in the safe room. You lead frosting back in then shut and lock the safe room door. You head to your gun safe and open it. You sit your AR on the table beside you before reaching back in and pulling out your machete. You normally only used this thing for brush and camping but now … Well…
This is going to be fun.
. He’s using 5.56 to be more specific.