<— Part 2
“Daddeh meanie. Weab Vaniwwa outside aww bwite-time,” the white fluff moaned, face pressed up against the chain-link fence. “Onwy wet Vaniwwa in housie on ‘week-en’ when wittle momma bisit.”
It was still morning time, but the sky-ball wasn’t angry yet and the fluff’s shadows didn’t hide under them. Vanilla was clearly sad and attention-starved, especially as his human daddy was at “wowk.” Cabbage tried to give the stallion a hug, but the holes in the fence were too small for either to get their hooves through.
“Pweas cum back an’ see Vaniwwa. Sooo wonewy.”
Cabbage, Twig, and Fern waved as they left. It seemed like a nice house but not a good one. Over the years more and more houses got fences to keep fluffies out. Some were wood, others metal but see through. A few recently started having gray blocks at the bottom that felt bad to walk on and couldn’t be dug under. A few had loud barkie monsters, but one had some pup-pups that tried to play through the fence. And just a handful would have fluffies in them, like Vanilla. Most house fluffies stayed in the house, though.
Not that the forest fluffies could blame them. Even after the loudest night, there were still lots of noisy fia-ah-woks, pieces red paper and burny-smelly tubs scattered around the forest from bored young humans.
Still, every year it was the same. Smarty wanted to know about the houses and humans. Sometimes houses got new humans. Sometimes the herd moved so it was an all new place. But she always wanted to know, just like the smarty before.
“Nee fin’ good pwace fow fwuffies…”
“Mama!” the little red colt exclaimed as it hugged Leaf’s snout.
“Nu am mama,” she said matter-of-factly. “Stiww wub babbeh.”
“Mama?”
“No am mama bu’,” she repeated, toppling the foal over softly, nuzzling its belly. “Stiww wub.”
It squealed with delight as a greenk filly scooted over.
“Bwuddah?”
“Sissy?”
“Nu,” Leaf answered. “No am bwuddah or sissy.”
The foals looked at her, confused. They knew each other since before their eyes opened. They could smell them. They could smell Leaf on each other.
“Fwend. Am fwends.”
“Fwend?”
“Fwend!”
A gentle nudge and the two foals hugged each other closely. Leaf smiled. The foals were growing up well so far. It was always better when there were others their age to socialize with besides their own brothers and sisters.
“Huggies!”
Rocket was busy cleaning her babies, including Leaf’s little yellow filly. The loudest night was hard on her, and getting the young mother to eat was difficult. It was understandable given how Rocket lost her leg as a foal, even if she didn’t remember herself. The little red colt had the same shade of red as the human noisy-hurtie things.
Singing caught Leaf’s ears, pulling her out of remembrance.
“Mama wub babbehs, babbehs wub mama… bwown babeh, gween babbeh, bwue babbeh… dwink aww miwkies, gwow big an’ stwong.”
The older fluff got up, leaving her brood in a small fluff-pile. Olive was singing to her foals, each laying on her upturned belly. The young mare positively glowed, still high on the wonder of life.
“Hewwo Weaf…” she said absently, watching as the green and brown foals nursed.
“Bwue babbeh need miwkies?”
“Yesh… hab tu take tuwns, but onwy hab two miwkie places,” she sighed. “Yu so wucky hab so many.”
Leaf sat, gently taking the blue filly from Olive. It wiggled to a teat and began drinking happily, content to be fed and loved by the familiar bigger fluff. She often had extra milk after her foals had their fill, so sharing with the others was a bit of a relief. Suckling aside, it was quiet between the two.
“Wai smawty wan’ pwetty babbehs?” Olive looked at the older mare, blue eyes surrounded by moistening fluff.
“Iz how hewd iz. Since Weaf wuz wittwe fiwwy an’ had owd smawty.”
“Buh wai?”
“No nu. Smawty nebah say. Dis one ow wast. Dey jus’ say babbehs go betta pwace.”
“Yu ebah see babbehs again?”
Leaf looked at the young mother’s eyes.
“No see da pwetty ones again, nu.”
“Bawk,” Jade whispered. “Smawty nee’ yu dig howe ‘gain soon.”
“Howe?” he asked.
“Wike wast time had babbehs.”
“Ah. Dat howe.”
The two snuggled up, looking over the herd’s domain as the moon passed overhead. It wasn’t cold, and there were no loud noises. Just quiet and darkness.
“Miss watchin’ da fia-ah-woks.”
“Dey pwetty but go ‘way su fas’…”