“Nu smeww pwetties…” you mumble to yourself as you use the latrine. You’re honestly grateful for the overwhelming stench, it was a distraction from the worries of having to deal with 25 from now on. The brief reprieve from your own thoughts ends as soon as you step out into the fresh air and worries assail you once again.
Mummah said she wouldn’t punish you if 25 gets out of control but… humans said a lot of things. You’ve heard so many horror stories from the other fluffies in the shelter that you can’t help but be a bit suspicious which in turn makes you feel guilty. Mummah has been very kind to you and the worst she’s done to the other fluffs is make them eat bad poopies which from what you’ve heard isn’t uncommon from other human mummahs. Still gross as all get out though.
You trot over to Yogi and wait for your herd to finish using the latrine, taking the time to get some water.
“Yu ams gonna habs da siwwy fwuffy?” Yogi asked, making casual conversation, “Dat ams gonna be intwewestins. Speshaw Fwen Smokey founded dat guy passed out fwom zappies. Dummeh twied runnin away`.”
You nodded slowly, “how tweenty faive gets zappies?”
“Cowwar haff zappies box, makes huwties if fwuffy weave widdout pewmissions.”
You look down at your collar and bite your lip. You remembered hearing something about that when mummah made lots of talkies yesterday but there was so much talking that you missed a lot of it. “…wai mummah give huwties?” you whisper to the giant fluffy.
Yogi sucked air through his teeth, “Yogi made bad tawkies. Widdle fwuffy nu wowwies, shockies onwy if fwuffy wun away. Yu ams good fwuffie, nuh huwties foh yu.”
You get over your concerns quickly. You are a good fluffy! So if only bad fluffies get hurt, well that’s their fault for being bad. “Otay, dat make sensies.”
Your herd finishes up their break and are led back to your assigned nummies. Nummin’ was hard work but you were up for the task. A bite here, a bit there. The amount of seemed endless. You weren’t sure how many forevers you had to eat all the green nummies, but you got the impression that you might not have enough.
As you munch thoughtfully on tasty green nummies you catch two of your fluffs plucking green nummies instead of eating them. You grumble and trot yourself over to them, puffing up your cheeks, “What am fwuffies doins’? Nee nums da gweenies, nuh saveses them!”
You check their collars. 75 and 46, both mares. 46 winces and speaks up, “Cowd times comins, nee nummies!”
“Wan be mummah! Nee nummies foh miwkies!” 75 adds.
You bop both of them on the nose, “Dummehs! Habs mummah nao, nuh nee wowwies bout nummies foh cowd times. Ans yu! Mummah saids nuh enfies! Dat means nuh babbehs!”
You grumble. You’ve never seen the appeal of babbehs. Sure they were cute but they were fragile and they’d wind up dying or leaving you like everyone else in your life. You stomp your hoof for emphasis, “Nao noms da nums ow tweenty seex teww da big fwuffs!”
The two mares look at eachother and let out a soft huuhuu, reluctantly going back to eating. You roll your eyes. For mares they sure were acting like babbehs. You take the time to check up on the rest of the herd just to be safe. Everyone else is apparently smart enough to do the easiest thing in the world, eat good nummies.
You puff up your cheeks and march back over to the two dummeh mares. “Ams checkins ons yu! Yu ams nommins?”
“Amfs nomsh” 75 says with a mouth full of leaves
“Nomsh!” 46 agrees.
You find yourself with a strange sense of disappointment. There was a thrill in confronting the two of them. You nodded and said, “Goods! Keep nommins.”
For the next while, at least a forever, you all ate diligently. The nummies were good but not particularly filling so you could eat lots and lots. But there still was a limit to how much you could stuff in your little body and boy did you reach it.
“Urf. Tummy huwties.” you say to yourself as you force down another mouthful of leaves. The rest of your herd has taken a break from nomming and honestly you can’t blame them. “Fwuffies! Habs ideas. Aww fwens du fwuff piwe!”
Your herd tries to cheer but you mostly get burps and groaned out “hooways”. Your fluffies waddle on over to you and flop down, hugging each other into a very bloated fluff pile. You yawn, “Fwuffies ams du good jobs nommins. Nee… needs widdwe sweepies…”
The lot of you drift off into happy dreams, your bellies full of nummies and your hearts full of happies. From the distance, a giant yellow fluffy approaches carrying a much smaller stallion in her mouth.
You dream of poopie brother. He says he’s happy for you, that you finally seem to have the good life he wanted for the two of you. He shows you around his place in skettiland, where he has so many kind mummahs who wanted babbehs but never had the chance. He seems happy too. A tear rolls down your muzzle as you hug the fluffy next to you tightly.
“HURK” The air in your lungs and a bit of nummies fly out of your mouth as 25 is dropped unceremoniously on top of you.
“Dummehs. Mummah Shannon nuh says sweepies. Wat yu thinkies?” Sunshine asks with a low growl.
You push the quivering 25 off of you and shakily rise to your hooves, “Hewd ams fuww, wan noms moh buh tummehs make sickie wawa.” You try to sound confident but the giant fluff terrifies you. You know she’s looking for an excuse to give hurties and you’re sure you’ve given her one by sleeping.
She peers at you and pokes your tummy with her hoof. You fall over onto the fluff pile. She looks at the rest of the herd. Your bloated bellies are so full of nummies you feel like you might explode. She looks back at you. She grumbles. “…Sunshine beweive smawty-fwen mawe. Wiww teww mummah Shannon 'bout dis, ams pwobwem foh pwoject.” You can tell she’s incredibly disappointed that she didn’t have a reason to give you hurties. She pointed at 25, “Dis won tho, make hims noms.”
You struggled to get back up on your hooves and nodded, “Wiww hab tweentee faif noms tiww tweentee faif nuh can noms nuh mowe.”
“Gud.” She huffed and stomped back over to the camp. Crisis averted, for now.
“Dummeh mawe! Hatechu!” 25 said now that he was sure that Sunshine was out of earshot.
You bop him on the nose, “Dat ams mummah’s bestest, dummeh! Yu wan huwties? Sunshine wubs tu gib huwties!” You’ve been with him all of a minute and you’re already completely exasperated, “Du- Fwen tweentee faif, pwease noms da gween weafs. Ams good nummies, pwomise.”
“Ams gud!” 75 says, trying to get back onto your good side.
25 stares at you for a long while. The whole herd stands in silence until 25’s stomach gargles in hunger. “…otay.” He makes a few exploratory bites, cautiously chewing. His hesitation is brief as he dives right into the vegetation. The stallion is a machine, you’re honestly impressed. The guy might be a dummy, but the man can eat.
“Fwens, goes bak tu sweepies, tweentee seex wiww watches tweentee faif. Feww between den yu cans noms mowe.”
The herd didn’t need much convincing as the fluffpile drifts back off to slumberland. You wish you could join them but you were the smarty-friend. Responsibility was a burden, but when even mummah’s munstah mawe sort of gives you a compliment you can’t help but feel satisfied.
By mild demand here’s part 6 yay hurray
