It’s raining. You’re hiding under another bush, but it’s not very dry here. The mare and Oscar are huddled up against you to make a fluff pile for warmth. You like Oscar now; he cried and huuhuued all day after you bit off his special lumps, but he behaved himself after that. He doesn’t try to give your mare any more bad special hugs, and he’s very helpful now. Your mare (When did she become yours, you wonder? Well, she’s not your special friend, but you’re herd leader now, and she’s part of your herd, so there.) is getting bigger and bigger now, and it’s harder for her to walk now. Oscar has been very helpful, helping you roll her around when her leggies get too tired to walk. Soon she’ll be so big her leggies won’t reach the ground; you need to find a good place for her and the babies soon.
The rain is slacking off; you nudge Oscar with your hoof and he flinches.
“Oscaw- Oscar, go look for hidey place for mare! She gonna be mummah soon, need good hidey place!”
“Otay! Oscaw wook!”
You watch the green fluffy scramble off through the rain; after a moment to reassure the mare that you’ll be back, you hurry off in a different direction to find a good hidey place. You’re glad you have Oscar; two fluffies can look better than one!
The rain has all stopped, but the shiny ball is going down; it’s going to be dark times soon, and you still haven’t found a good hidey place for the mare! You’re getting frustrated; big brother would have found a good hidey place already. You’re just not as smart and strong as he was. You’re also irritable because your neck owie is healing, but it’s all itchy and sore still. You head back for the bush you left the mare under; another day, another failure. You’re a terrible herd leader.
Wiggling under the bush, you see that Oscar has beaten you back and is keeping the mare company.
“Oscaw fine gud hidey pwace! Am gud fwuffy!”
“Oscar show hidey place!”
Leaving the mare under the bush again, you follow Oscar through the trees and he shows you the way.
“Heah am gud hidey pwace!”
You investigate the hidey place thoroughly. It’s made of a bunch of rocks all piled together with another bush growing in front of it; Oscar gets down on his belly and crawls under the bush and you follow him.
It’s big in here, and warm with no wind blowing inside. The ground is dry, and the rocks make walls on three sides and a roof. This would be a very good place for a new mummah and her babies! Oscar timidly tells you more about the hidey place he found.
“Deaw am good gwassies outside, and fwesh, nummy wa-was cwose by tu!”
“Show fluffy!”
You both wiggle out from the hidey spot and Oscar shows you; there is indeed lots of good, fresh grassies growing around the hidey place, and a little stream nearby. You sit down and look at it all, amazed; this is the bestest hidey place ever!
“Oscaw am gud fwuffy? Fine gud hidey pwace?”
You give Oscar huggsies; he flinches away from you at first, but then hugs you back.
“Oscar am very good fluffy! Dis- THIS very good hidey place! Oscar do vewy good!”
Oscar bounces away from you and does a happy dance at your praise.
“Oscar no dancey now! Need bring mare to hidey place furst!”
Oscar flinches and lays his ears back, then nods. You both hurry back to where you left the mare; you have to move fast, before the dark times come! The shiny ball is already almost hiding behind the ground!
You reach the bush you left the mare hiding under and start to crawl beneath it.
“Whaaa! Munsta! Nu huwt fwuffy! Am mummah soon! Nee-”
“No am monster! Am fluffy! Oscar find good hidey place! We go there now!”
The fat, round mare waddles along between you, barely mobile. She’s too slow, this is taking too long; it’ll be dark times before you get there!
“Oscar, help woll- roll! Mare to hidey place!”
Between the two of you, you’re able to roll the mare through the trees faster than before; she complains a little about owies, but not much. Just as the dark times arrive, you find the hidey place again. Helping the mare crawl under the bush, you and Oscar follow and emerge in the hidey place. It’s warmer in here, dry, and you instinctively know it’s safe. The mare wiggles around to face the entrance and struggles to see in the fading light.
“Dis am gud hidey pwace! Gud pwace fow babbehs!”
“Oscar find hidey place. Oscar am good fluffy!” You give credit where it’s due.
She looks at Oscar and holds her front leggies out for hugsies.
“Oscaw am gud fwuffy!”
He gives hugsies back to the mare and squeaks in joy at the praise. This is a good day for Oscar; maybe he’ll be less saddies now than he has been since you removed his special lumps.
“Mawe am mummah soon! Hidey pwace nu haf sawft nestie fow mummah and babbehs! Nee nestie!”
You nod; this makes sense.
“Fwuffies make good nestie for mummah and babies when bright times come. Fluffies need sleepies now!”
Huddling together into a warm fluff pile, the three of you all nod off. Things are finally getting better for your little herd.
The bright times and dark times come two or three more times, you’re not sure because you didn’t keep count. The hidey place now has a thick pile of pine needles and dry grassies all over the floor, making a soft, warm nestie for the mare and her babies. You and Oscar spent all of the bright time before gathering the nicest grassies for the mare so she could make the bestest milkies! The mare is so big and round now, she can’t even move. You and Oscar have been taking turns removing her poopies and any of the bedding soaked by her pee-pees since she can’t leave the hidey place to do it outside; you’re tempted to make Oscar do it all the time, but you want to be a good herd leader, not a meanie, so you take turns to be fair. Oscar only made the mistake of making poopies inside the hidey place once; you had to stomp him a couple times to teach him you were serious, because explaining why making poopies inside the hidey place was bad didn’t seem to be working. He was a good fluffy after that.
You’re all three sleeping comfortably when you’re suddenly awakened by a hoof to the face. Owies! That hurt! Why did-
“Urgh! Mawe tummeh huwt! Nee make bigges poopies!”
You immediately sit up, ignoring the owies to your face. You know what this means! The babies are coming! Oscar sits up and you can barely see him yawning sleepily in the dark.
“Oscaw! Make woom- Make room for mare! Babies coming!”
“Babbehs?! Yay!”
“Ooooooough! Owies! Fwuffy huwt! Owieeeees!”
You scramble around in the dark to get behind the mare. You might need to help with the babies.
“Oscaw… Oscaw dun nu whu du! Oscaw make babbehs, Oscaw nu hewp babbehs come! Whu… Whu Oscaw du?”
You think. Oscar needs to feel useful, but there’s not much he can do. There’s not much you can do either, and you’ve seen babies being born, unlike him.
“Oscaw nee giff mawe huggies!”
He immediately tackle-hugs the mare, who basically ignores the hugsies and grunts and strains. You hear and feel something wet splash onto the floor of the nestie; it smells bad. Not like pee-pees, but it doesn’t smell pretty all the same.
“UuuuuuuaaaAAAAAAH OWIES!”
She grunts and you feel something plop out at your feet. Poopies? No, it’s a baby!
“Gud mawe! Babbeh hewe! Keep twying!” You’re too excited to talk right.
She moans and strains again, and something else plops out. Two babies! Then a third. Three babies! Something else plops out. Four ba- wait, that’s not a baby. You sniff it and nudge it; it’s not a baby and it’s not poopies. What is it? Two more plop out soon after, and the tired, panting mare turns around exhaustedly.
“Wheaw babbehs?”
You nudge the three babies forward, still unsure what to do with the not-baby things. You help her start cleaning the babies.
The first is a little horny baby, you can’t tell if it’s a boy or girl from its smell, and it’s too dark to see, but you can feel the horn on its head. You hope it looks like his daddy, your big brother. The mare- no, mummah now! sniffs the clean baby and contentedly declares it to be a good baby. The second baby is another horny baby. The mummah cleans and sniffs it, and declares it to also be a good baby. You’re proud; these are all good babies so far! Then the mummah cleans the third baby, which has no horn or wingies, and… freezes.
“Why babbeh nu muv?”
Your fluff stands on end and you perk your ears forward. The baby doesn’t move?
“Babbeh! Wake up, babbeh! Mummah’s hewe! Wake up, babbeh! Wake up! Babbeh?”
You sniff the baby. It’s not moving. You nudge it with your nose and it still doesn’t move. Your chest hurts and you immediately have the sads.
“Babbeh- baby… Babbeh is foweva sweepies. Sowwy, fwuffy. It not yu fawt. It just happen.”
“Uhh-uhh-uwaaah! Mummah am bad mummah!”
Upset and irritated, you bop her nose hard enough to get her attention, but not hard enough to hurt.
“Nu am bad mummah! Fwuffy am gud mummah! Nun mummah’s fauwt!”
She huuhuus a few times, but once her first two babies start chirping she quickly forgets the not moving baby and moves them to her milkie places.
“Hewe babbehs! Mummah am hewe! Haf miwkies!”
You see Oscar’s outline move slightly.
“Whuw dose uvva tings?”
You forgot all about those. The new mummah holds her nursing babies to her milkie places as she wiggles around to see what Oscar is talking about. She sniffs the three not-babies and immediately gobbles them down like the bestest nummies. This mystifies you, but you don’t question it. It seems right, somehow.
“Oscaw, wawtch mawe- watch mare.”
“Whu fwuffy du?”
“Need take care of sumting.”
You leave Oscar to watch the mare, who is sufficiently distracted with feeding her new babies, and pick up the not-moving baby. Wiggling out from under the bush that covers the hidey place’s entrance, you wander off through the dark, barely able to see enough to avoid running into a tree. You have the sads, but you know this job is necessary. You have to do it to keep monsters from finding the hidey place. It’s scary in the dark, but you need to be brave. You need to be a good herd leader and do the tough jobs.
You stop at what you judge to be a sufficient distance from the hidey place and drop the not-moving baby. You sniff and nudge it one last time to make sure it’s really forever sleepies, then sadly pick your way through the dark back to the hidey place. Even knowing where it is, it’s hard to find in the dark. You wiggle under the bush and into the hidey place again. The new mummah is quietly singing to her babies, who chirp contentedly to themselves and nestle into her fluff. Oscar is sitting attentively, doing a good job of watching her. You give him hugsies and tell him what a good fluffy he is for doing his job. Then you give hugsies to the new mummah, careful not to squish the little chirpy babies.
Happy over the new arrival of the babies, you all gather together into a fluff pile and return to sleep.
A shadowy form looms over the stillborn foal, sniffing it thoroughly. The shadow moves away, and the still body is no longer there.
