As days turned to weeks and more food was needed, Ice stepped up, becoming an astounding nummie-finder for his little-large family.
He never had the chance to learn from experiences with his father, North, but he did remember a few small things his Daddeh would talk about. Like how most of all red berries were bad, so avoid them, Black, Purple and Blue berries were okay, and if you couldn’t get berry nummies, get grassie-nummies, cant find those? buggy-munsta’s were small and gross, but you could num them to survive.
Taking these lessons to heart you did your best to gather food for your mother. She had to provide milk for the new fluffies, and she would need even more if she was going to be able to take care of HER babbehs. And by the looks of your mothers rotund size, she was due very soon.
Your mother warned you about specific munstas that were around. Ones that would rip you in half and ones that would kill you slowly, you didn’t want to think about them but she taught you about how to avoid them. Thankfully you never dealt with those munstas before, and you hoped you never did.
You loved your mother, she protected you from that meanie Cherry. She was a Munsta, but she was YOUR munsta. And no one would hurt her if you could help it. You also needed to protect your new sisters and brothers, and the ones along they way. Your mother hadn’t given them names, and said there is a chance they wont grow up, so there wouldn’t be a reason to get attached. You didn’t like that, babbehs were meant for wuv and huggies!
It made you sad to think they wouldn’t make it to see your face, to see the nice forest you lived in. To hear stories and tales about your old family, to hear about there new mother.
You wanted to tell them Harley was strong, that she would protect them.
You would protect them… That she would protect you…
Your name is Ice. And your being the best nummie-finder you can.
During one of your many nummie-finding hunts, you discovered hoof prints, ones obviously not belonging to you or your mother, heeding your mothers words you followed them, carefully, as to not draw whatever had made these tracks.
After a few moments of hunting, you began to hear familiar noises, Fluffies, none that you knew but you still knew that form of talking anywhere.
“Mummah? Chiwp? Am otay’? Peep? Mu-mummah? Bestes’ nee’ miwkies! Babbehs nee’ miwkies!” you heard the mixed cries of foals. As you drew closer, you saw a horrid sight.
The aforementioned mother had been ripped in half, her top half was missing, and her lower half was just lying limply on its side, refusing to nectar the foals knew as miwkies. You weren’t accustomed to the gruesome way of life, and you didn’t want to get used to it, but remembering the warning you received from your mother about trying the “wed-nummies” you didn’t bother with the corpse. Looking over the foals you grimaced at what you had to do.
Emerging from the bush you had so well hid in, you greeted the angry, confused, and sad foals. “Hewwo babbehs! S-somethin’ wong?” you said, wearing a oblivious face.
You didn’t receive a answer from the foals, instead you were met with demands and questions, a orchestra of “Nyu fwend?” and “Nee’ miwkies!” Great, you thought to yourself, there dummies. “Ice am gud fwuffy! Hab wots of nummies back at nestie! Babbehs wan’ nummies? Wan’ miwkies?”
Not two minutes later the foals were on your back or following you, there were six in total, so there would be plenty for Mummah. You had done this before, and you never watched when she num’d the fluffies you brought back, the last fluffy you brought back was a sickly mare looking for her foals, she had lost them.
She didn’t put up much of a fight.
After a small walk back to the nest, you were greeted by your mother and the other babies. “Hewwo Ice! Oh! ‘Ou find othah gud babbehs? Dey nee’ nummies? Hewwow new babbehs!” Mummah Harley greeted you and the foals. She was a expert at playing unsuspecting fluffies, you were kind of jealous of that, but also glad you had the empathy to always look away from mother when she fed.
The foals waddled around and played in the nest until the “Bestes” waddled up to Harley and began his demanding. “Nyu Mummah? Nyu Mummah gib Bestes’ Babbeh miwkies nao!”
you waddled over to the other babies and scooted them away from the impending doom the other foals were about to be apart of. At the mention of milk the other five slowly made there way over to there “Nyu Mummah” completely unaware, just wanting love and miwkies…
Hee-hee! Siwwy babbeh! Nu am bestes’ babbeh!" Harley informed the round fat foal. “Wha?! buh am bestes! mummah awways cawwed babbeh bestes!” it tried to argue back.
“Nu nu nununununununu! ‘Ou nu undewstand! ‘Ou am bestes’, just not bestes’ babbeh! Tee-hee!” She was playing the same game she played with other fluffies. the same one she played with your sister and Lilly… Was it Lilly? No that’s not right… Lanny?
“Weww… If bestes’ babbeh am nu bestes’ babbeh… Den what am babbeh bestes’ at?” the foal asked.
with out another word, Harley picked up the Bestes’ and raised him high. “Hee-hee! Peep! Wub upsies! Peep!” not responding to the foal, Harley brought him close to her muzzle, still closed. “Peep! Wub nyu mummah! Wub!” the excitement in the Baby had drawn the other five closer to there new mother, expecting to get upsies as well, expecting there hunger and sadness to drift away.
Now that the other babies were tucked away you made your way to the exit of the nest, and plopped down, making sure no fluffy could get out. You weren’t big, but you were big enough to make sure they didn’t escape.
You hoped she didn’t take long with her nummies. But you at least hoped she had her fill.
You loved Mummah. and your mummah needed her fill.
You just hoped it was enough.
With a glint appearing from Harley’s teeth, the foal in her arms began to quiver at the sight of the jagged teeth, now noticing the swirling vortex’s she had for eyes, this wasn’t a normal fluffy, this was a munst-
the thought of the foal was cut off, figuratively and literally, as Harley had dug her teeth into the soft flesh of the foals head, resulting in a slight screech before the had tore the upper half of the head of the poor thing. leaving behind the lower jaw, a gurgling tongue, and a convulsing body behind.
“Babbeh am Beste’ nummies!” Harley glared a the other foals, blood covering her jagged smile.
With the screech heard, the other five began to cry and beg, doing only what a foal could do, which, surprise-surprise, was not a lot. The limp body of the bestes had now fallen from Harley’s arms, beginning in the small slaughter, as if a warning shot had gone off.
Two foals were smashed by her fatty hoves, while the other three ran in circles, dragging a small shit stain behind them.
Harley dug into the bestes and the two she smashed. One had made its way to the one they had followed, hoping to gain some form of sympathy only to be met with silence, and a saddened glance from Ice. The foal couldn’t understand why it and its family were being attacked by a mother, why a nice Colt had led them into danger, all it could do was cry, no amount of tears could save it however.
The final two foals who were still alive had tried to find sanctuary in there hooves, reciting the mantra of “babbeh nu can see, su munsta nu can see” over and over, as Harley dragged herself over to the two. Normally she would play with them, but her tummy babbehs needed nummies.
Ripping into the back of one of the ‘hiding’ foals, it cried out in pain screeching as every bit tore more and more of its innards out, until finally it dropped dead. The other hiding foal had ‘revealed’ itself only to see its sibling being eaten, eyes dead, mouth agape, and blood- so much blood.
Lucky for him, the shock and the horror of the carnage had caused a panic-induced heart attack, the foal, too young to understand almost anything, died, wiggling in shock, until completely catatonic.
All that was left was the sobbing mess behind the still Ice. It was a small filly, one who was just trying to survive, but was too small and too weak to do anything, or stop the horror show that has just occurred.
the Filly had heard a strange scratching coming from behind her, and when she turned to meet the noise, she was met by the horrific sight of Harley, dragging her pregnant body, now covered in blood, and the matted fluff of her siblings, right towards her, mouth still watering, still hungry.
The Filly did not beg. It had stopped crying and instead, lowered its head, fully excepting its fate.
as was the fate of many other Fluffies Ice had brought to the nest. So many now, he had became numb to it.
Well… Almost numb.
“Mummah, nu num dis one, wooks sicky, Ice take an’ weabe awone in fowest?” The filly heard. WAS she about to be saved? Was this some horrific joke? Alone? She wouldn’t last a day out there!
“Hmm… Nu, Mummah num anyway, Hawwey much stwonga den Ice fink!” Her mind had been made, and so was the foal’s fate. With a swift reach down, Harley had brought her maw down on the filly, the last thing the Filly had seen was Ice looking down on the poor foal.
A single thought came to the foal, in the seconds that the jaws of the cannibal had launched at it. One that made her so confused at the whole ordeal, the deaths of its siblings, the death of its mother, the false hope of finding a new family only to see them all eaten and killed.
‘Why was the Fluffy who led you here crying?’