Vanilla watched as the tree fluffies went away. His new friend, Cabbage, always said hello and while they couldn’t hug they could at least nuzzle or touch hoofs through the chain link fence. But they always had somewhere to be, and never stayed for long. The other two, Fern and Twig, always seemed nervous around Vanilla. They never wanted to close to him, always looking around.
But they were little. Cabbage was big! Cabbage could keep them safe, right?
It always gave the white fluff heart hurties to watch them go. He wanted to go with them. He wanted to go where the tree fluffies lived. Where the humans weren’t. The mean humans who always yelled at each other in front of little mama. Made little mama cry. Who wouldn’t let him go with little mama or let little mama stay.
And the words they said! Bad words! At each other! In front of little mama! In front of Vanilla! Fluffies were supposed to be for love and hugs! And if fluffies were, surely little mama was too!
Every week-en’ the human mama come and bring little mama. And then she and daddeh would fight. Maybe things would quiet down. Little mama stayed with him when they yelled and screamed and said bad words at each other. And when dark times came, daddeh would drink silly wawa and get mad. So mad. Or sad. Both. It was hard to tell. And then he’d yell at nobody, but little mama could hear. Vanilla would hear her crying to sleep.
And the next day they’d go somewhere. Then when they came back, mama would take little mama away. And daddeh would get sad and throw things and yell. And drink. And say mean, bad things.
“I fuckin’ hate you, Vanilla. I hate my daughter loves you more than me, and I hate that whore ex of mine ever bought you in the first place but I’m the one stuck taking care of your stupid ass.”
And then he would ignore Vanilla for many forevers, only putting more things into the nummie ding-box and wawa thing if he begged.
Would the tree fluffies let Vanilla and little mama live with them?
Vanilla was so lonely.
“Wai babbeh no hab namesie? Nice fwuffy no wub babbeh?”
The red colt’s eyes were large and glistening, meekly peeking over Leaf’s leg.
“Wai babbeh t’ink Weaf no wub babbeh?”
“Cuz aww oddah babbehs hab namsies but babbeh, yewwow fiwwy-fwen and bwue fiwwy fwen…”
“Onwy mama gib namsies to babbehs. Weaf no am yu mama.”
“Weah mama? Mama no wub babbeh?”
Leaf kept calm, but felt her heart ache. She knew her little yellow filly was probably asking Rocket the same question. Maybe it was easier given they had each other’s pretty colored foals, but that didn’t mean it was actually easy. Even after having done this twice before, it was still hard.
She felt a soft nuzzle in the back of her head, with a quiet whisper, “How du?”
Jade. Smarty.
“Gu, babbeh. Go pway wif fwens. No hab sadies. Stiww babbeh. Stiww wubbed.”
The colt’s head hung long as he trudged towards the other foals.
“Iz awmos’ time. Babbeh’s teef comin’. Hab mout’ huwties.” Leaf replied, turning to look at the green Unicorn.
“Gud. Dey makin’ good poopies yet?”
“Twyin’. Stiww eawwy. Dey kno, doh.”
“How mamas doin’?”
“Wocket doin’ otay. She wub yewwow fiwwy, but knu not hews. Easiew dat way.”
“An’ Owibe?”
“Gon’ be hawd. She keep askin’ wai. Wub hew bwue fiwwy.”
“She gib namsies?”
“Weaf no t’ink so. She no du nuffin’ wong, but stiww, fiwst time.”
Jade’s head tilted, examining Leaf. The green pegasus was two cold times old, but acted much older. Always had. Her gaze must’ve had weight as the mother asked back, “How iz Jay-duh?”
“Smawty gud. Bestest.”
“Nu, no cawe ‘bout Smawty. How iz Jay-duh?”
When no reply came, Leaf turned her head. “Mabbeh yu shouwd teww Owibe ‘bout yu babbehs.”
“Wha’ dat du?” Jade asked. “Dis how iz.”
“Twue,” Leaf sighed. “Bu’ at weas’ den seem faiw.”
“Wai yu no teww?”
“Caus no am Smawty. Nuwse no say eitha.”
“Owibe ow Wocket knu wha hewd do wid pwetteh babbehs?”
“No. Owibe ask, bu’ nebah teww. Jus’ say no knu. Dat’s how iz,” Leaf admitted. “Bu’ dats wai ask, ‘how yu?’ Hawd pawt soon fow yu too…”
Bark looked with some satisfaction. It took him and the toughies many bright times, but the hole was done. It was dug shallow enough an adult could get out without too much problem, but was too deep for a weanling to leave. They had put sticks and branches over top, then rocks around it. There was only one way in or out of it if you were an adult, and no way out if you weren’t.
