They all answered to full names now, even if they referred to themselves with the shortened versions. The adult pen was meant for a different test. If a fluffy made it this far, they’d proven they were stronger, smarter, and faster than most, capable of following basic rules and willing to kill for him. These were his kennel guards, each with a chipped collar that let them out into the yard to keep an eye on the outdoor stock, the ones producing cheap salefoals and snakefood.
For the first time since training started, there was enough food for all of them, separated for the carnivores and the herbivores that got this far. There were beds in sheltered nooks, big enough for a few to pile in together.
On the other hand, this was a co-ed pen of sexually mature, unfixed fluffies. Pairing up was inevitable. The mares here saw the outdoor stock with “babbehs” every day, and usually got ideas themselves, the stallions either wanted special friends or just good feels.
So he made the new rule plain. Special friends were fine. Special huggies without asking were not. Babies without asking were right out. Of course, if the right fluffies asked, he’d say yes…as long as they understood that the babies would be taken as soon as they could walk- right back into the training cycle and the hell most of them could remember of the foal pen.
Breaking the rule on special huggies brought back the same consequence they should remember from the last pen. Disobey and die. But, there were always a few who either couldn’t stop themselves or decided babies would make him change his mind. That their babies would be special enough they could keep them. And there his last tests lay.
But, thus far, there had just been a great deal of courting. Oreo bringing food to a dull pink mare, Mint trying to coax mares into dark corners, Cherrydazzle being ignored by the bright blue and purple mares he followed with a hopeful expression. And, oddly enough, Razzleberry, also watching the mares with a wistful expression.
Which was a little more unexpected than it should be, all things considered. Doubly at the reminder from some of the stallions’ behavior that she didn’t smell like a mature fluffy to them- Mare or otherwise. He was, however, highly amused a few weeks later when the little taupe fluffy trotted up to him with hope in her eyes and a dull silver and pink mare shyly watching him from just behind and under the shelter of her wings.
Jason still wasn’t sure if it was the time spent hand raised in the house before and after the surgery, something about being two of the few alicorns in the pens and just clever enough to keep him being arbitrator of everything in their lives, or a quirk of the slightly different instincts the hunting friend breeds had as carnivores. No matter the reason, the twins…like Jolly Rancher, Skittles, and Laffy-Taffy before them… were already more responsive to his presence and less apprehensive to go near him. As long as they were still respectful and obedient, it wasn’t a problem that they didn’t act visibly afraid of him entering the pen, so maybe hand raising more foals for the first pen was an idea. Eliminate whatever variable their mothers telling them about him had.
“Mista Daddeh siw? Can Wazza hab Cwoudy as speciew fwiend and hab babbehs?” Cloudy tucked further under the outstretched wing at that, still staring up at him with terrified eyes.
“Razzleberry. Uh… You can have the special friend if you want. But two mares can’t have babbehs. And I told you once. When you were little, you were really sick, sick enough you can’t ever have tummy babies at all. It’s why the older stallions think you still smell like a filly, remember?” ….And, probably cue the argument or whatever ridiculous logic was in her fluffy head…
“Dat otay, Daddeh, siw! Wazza nu nee’ gib Cwoudy babbehs. Mint awweady gab Cwoudy bad nu-wan huggies, an’ Cwoudy hab babbeh feewin’ afta. Bu’ Cwoudy nu wan bweak Daddeh siw wuwe, ow hab babbehs wit nu speciew fwiend, su Wazza say Wazza ask tu be speciew fwiend an’ bout babbehs.” She flicked the constantly in her eyes locks of blue and lavender, and beamed up at him with that still hopeful smile.
Oh. For the love of…… He glanced over at the other side of the pen, where the green unicorn had looked up with a mouthful of sauce covered kibble, ears suddenly fixed over at the conversation. Well, not like he wouldn’t have found that out when the cameras were checked. “You can be special friends, then. And, because you asked, and she didn’t mean to break the rule, I won’t punish Cloudy for getting tummy babies.” He held up a hand at the happy sounds. “But. But, because Mint didn’t ask, and because they were made before I was asked, you have to give me the babies earlier. As soon as they open their eyes, you give the babies to me. All of them.”
“Yes, siw. Unnastood! Tank ‘ou, Daddah Siw.” Razzleberry was still grinning up at him, and he reached down to shift that hair in her eyes again…and maybe give a brief ear scratch. “Wazza wook afta soon mummah speciew fwiend Cwoudy. An babbehs, tiww eyesies awe open an’ babbehs gu tu Daddeh siw….”
Cloudy nudged into her, clearly trying to talk quietly. “Wazza! Tummy babbehs nee’ mummah, nee’ Mummah wook afta babbeh, nee’ miwkies, an’ wawmies, an’-” Razzle leaned over and licked the smaller earthy’s muzzle until she stopped talking.
“Daddeh siw can gib babbehs wawmies, an’ miwkies, an’ wook afta babbehs gud, wike did fo’ Wazza an’ Dazza, wite?” The moment he gave an amused agreement, Razzleberry nuzzled her new “special friend” again. “See? Daddeh siw wook afta babbeh’s tu. Cwoudy nu nee’ wowwy bout babbehs. Babbehs stay wit Cwoudy tiww nu’ nee’ wawmies aww time, an’ hab eyesies open.” Another soothing muzzle lick, even as the silver mare was still watching Jason warily more than responding to her new mate. “An’ Cwoudy stiww soon-mummah. Eyesies open babbehs am fo-eba an fo-eba away. Nu wowwy nyow. ”
Cloudy was clearly still sulking, but the taupe and blue cotton candy alicorn nuzzled carefully against Jason’s leg until he stepped away, then dashed over to her brother. “DAZZA! Dazza, Wazza hab speciew fwiend! Gun hab babbehs!” Cherrydazzle, to his credit, looked only briefly non-plussed at this before he hugged his sister, tapping his horn against hers.
“Dat gud. Wazza am happies wit’ soon-mummah speciew fwiend?” He arched his own wing almost as protectively over Cloudy as she was. “Den Dazza am happies tu. Wub sissy.”
“Wub Bwudda. Bwudda am be Cwoudy bwudda nyao tu. an’ hewp wit babbehs?” She was nuzzling at them both. “Den Wazza hewp gets Wavenda wook at Dazza. Dazza am bestest bwudda an’ be gud speciew fwiend fow an’ mawe. Dazza nee’ happies, den Wazza hab mowe happies.”