Lovesick part 3
Mocha was so excited her hooves tapped against the floor. Infront of her wasn’t just a new friend, Angel, who was also a pegasus, but her new friend had babbehs. Babbehs! “Can Mocha howd a babbeh?” Her wings buzzed in excitement.
Angel looked up at the man, “daddeh, can nyu fwend howd babbeh?”
Angel’s daddeh stopped talking with Mochas mummah and gave permission. Mocha squealed in delight again and moved closer to Angel. Angel laid down and slowly rolled onto her side, forcing the two chirpy foals to crawl over her. The maroon one went straight for her teat while the sky blue one curled up on her side.
Mocha did her best to contain her excitement. She tried to whisper, but couldn’t contain her volume as she sat down and reached for the sky blue foal. “WOOK’IT DIS BABBEH IS DA CUTEST BESTEST BABBEH EBAH!”
Jimi hopped next to Mocha and sniffed at the foal, he couldn’t pick it up, but he nuzzled against it, eliciting a chirp. He thought it was cute, but his interest was in the very pretty green mare. He turned his attention back to Angel. “Dose babbehs awe pwetty, buh Angew am pwettiew.”
Angel smiled at him, “dats wat spechul fwend teww Angew tu!”
“Sorry, big guy, she already has a special friend,” Sammy gave him a good scratching behind the ears.
“Mummah, Mocha wan babbehs! Can Mocha hab dis babbeh?”. She gave Sammy the biggest puppy dog eyes, complete with quivering lip.
“No, that little girl belongs to Angel.” Mocha’s entire demeanor fell.
“Angel hab da pwettiest babbehs…” She gingerly returned the sky blue foal to Angels fluff.
The maroon foal left the rest and joined the blue foal. Her daddeh picked up the foals, followed by Angel, returning all three to the table.
“C’mon, you two, maybe you guys can play together after the babies grow up.” Sammy tried to usher the two out, and as much as Mocha didn’t want to leave the babbehs, she listened to her mummah.
“Pway wif Angew anuddah bwite time?” Jimi asked on their way out.
“Of course, big guy, another day.”
After the appointment, Sammy needed to go pick up more fluffy food. Neither of her fluffies minded car rides, Jimi was mostly quiet and watched out the crate or napped. Mocha played 20 questions, which Sammy found too cute to discourage.
20 miles away from home, in the opposite direction from work, was one of the most run down and depressing pet stores. While it could be called a “pet store,” it was more accurately a fluffy store. It was the Wish or the Ali-Express of fluffy shopping. This was the store that caught ferals, washed them, and put them for sale. This was where a person could hand over twenty bucks for a pillowfluff and enfie pal and have enough change left over for a Busch lite 40oz or two.
The front half, the street facing area, was full of food, toys, everything a fluffy owner could need, including crates and crates of fluffies of all colors and ages. The back section, away from prying eyes, held the items that catered to a different type of clientele. From pepper spray to hammers, rubber dildos shaped like fists to runt foal spray. It was back here that the cheapest of the cheap could also be found. And with this reputation came a prideful sense of discretion.
“You feeding ferals again, Sammy?” Ramon asked as he rang up a 40lb bag of kibble that was only slightly more nutritious than sawdust. As she scanned the nutrition label on the back, she silently thanked the USDA for requiring such information on pet food. That thought quickly swept away as it was a bit depressing the reason for it.
“You know me, I’m a sucker for a cute face. I just can’t say no to anyone coming to my door.” She giggled at the game they played, flirting through the whole transaction.
Sammy waved through the window as she opened the door, Mocha happily waved back. Some thumps and bumps and a rumbling roar and the three were back home.
Over the next week Sammy kept a mental note of the change in personality. Every day she returned home their greetings, their cries for attention were more drastic, frantic, and desperate. It was quite interesting watching two talking, eating, breathing, and allegedly thinking creatures become so attached. So in love with her. And Sammy loved it.
Each day she reviewed the webcam footage. Day by day, the two became lazier and more lethargic when she wasn’t home. Jimi would lay on his side for several hours laying staring at the TV, only moving when the pretty mares came on the screen. Mocha would have a bout like that, but only becoming excited when the foals were on screen. She reacted the most when the mummah was singing. The older the foal, the less interest.
-ghhhurk-
Her thoughts were interrupted by a most horrific sound.
-haff haff hrrrghk-
Jimi stumbled into the living room hacking and heaving until a large purple mass plopped onto the floor.
He looked up at Sammy with the most pathetic look on his face. Between pants “mummah… Haff… Jimi… Haff… Hab sickie wawa… Haff…”
“Aww, my little guy, c’mere.” She scooped him up and laid him on the couch. After cleaning the mess she cuddled with him on the couch. “I have some special treats that will help.”
Jimi took the chewie treats from her hand, they were surprisingly sweet, a taste he hadn’t experienced before.
She put the bottle of children’s chewable vitamins back on the end table. Guess it’s time to start adding in more vitamins. Every few pets she had to shake the strands of stray purple and yellow fluff from her hands.
Mocha was also feeling the effects of the sawdust and cardboard food. Her fluff wasn’t coming out as much as Jimi, but she was still laying about. As Jimi was being comforted she was in the safe room on her bed holding 'Tuffy. 'Tuffy was half the size of Mocha now that she was fully grown, he was still her favorite thing. Sammy put in her ear bud to watch live. The cam had a mic sensitive to make out what she was saying.
Mocha wasn’t talking to 'Tuffy, she was singing, “mummah wub babbeh. 'Tuffy am bestest babbeh. Babbeh gwow big an stwong!” The song ended with a hug, “am ‘Tuffy hab tummie owies? Mummah Mocha make bes’ miwkies!” Through the screen Sammy watched Mocha awkwardly place 'Tuffy on her “miwkie pwace.” She petted the top of 'Tuffy’s head as she pretended to feed him. After enough time passed that she thought he would be done, she pulled him into a hug, “yu am Mocha’s bes babbeh…”
however I will neither confirm nor deny any guesses. That’s half the fun!