Daisy sobbed late into the night, and long after the rest of the herd had fallen asleep, her soft huu-huu-ing could be heard amoungst the gently falling snow. Her nest was in one of the three hollow trees stood next to each other that the herd’s old smarty had chosen for that winter. Each had been painstakingly dug deeper and wider, so that the ten adult fluffies of the herd all had plenty of room, both to sleep, and to store the food that the old smarty had insisted that they stockpile.
It was late winter, and the temperature outside was actually finally above freezing, and so Daisy’s little nest was almost cozy warm. As she finally fell asleep, Daisy hoped the meanie cold-wet stuff would go away soon, as they were almost out of stored food.
The next day dawned bright and warm, and all around the dripping of melting snow could be heard. Daisy didn’t notice, as she was doing her best to scarf down the now moldy old grass to make milk for her two tiny foals. They had awoken before her, and their hungry chirps had stirred her to action. After she gave them all the milk they wanted, they both went back to sleep, followed soon by Daisy, who draped her body around them as best she could.
Outside, the red unicorn who was now the herd’s smarty was loudly taking a morning dump. The foals that he had ordered placed in their poop pit had spent a miserable night cuddled together in a violently shivering fluffpile, surviving only because of the older brown stallion who did his best to shelter the smaller foals from the cold.
The smarty decided to take stock of what was now his herd, and after poking his head into each of the three tree-nests, determined that they had a small amount of toughies, a larger number of adult mares and stallions, and a middle number of foals.
(For those of us who can count, it was two toughies, four stallions, and three mares who between them had seven foals, not counting the ones now huddling in the shit pit.)
It was nearly noon before the entire herd was awake and socializing. The larger foals bounded about in the melting snow, splashing in puddles and, of course, playing tag, huggies-tag, and taggies-hug. The smarty decided it was time to flex his new-found power, and rape something. Unfortunately for Daisy, she was the first mare he saw.
“Pwetty bwue mawe! Yu gib smawty enfies nao!” He shouted.
“Nu wan, mummah hab babbehs, nee gib miwkies an wub an huggies!” She countered, but to no avail as the smarty ignored her before pushing her to the ground. He didn’t really care about the sex, instead reveling in his power over the rest of the fluffies in the herd.
“Gon gib yu bestest smawty babbehs!” He shouted as he pounded away, oblivious that he was actually raping her ass.
“Nu wan poopie-pwace babbehs!” Daisy wailed, but the smarty ignored her, instead looking at the rest of the herd, as if to make sure that each of them saw the power he had over Daisy.
For the next week or so, life continued in about the same manner. The mummahs nursed their foals, the foals grew larger every day, Smarty would randomly rape one or two of them each day, and the snow kept melting.
By the time Daisy’s foals were six days old, the snow was entirely gone, as was the last of their stored food.
“HEWD! It nu wonga cowd time! Now am time fow hewd to find nu nummies! We webein da owd nesties!” Smarty cried as he started to walk in a random direction. The rest of the herd followed him for most of the day, until they found a small clearing with fresh grass growing.
Compared to the moldy old food they had been eating, fresh grass seemed like the finest of the non-sketti nummies, and the adults of the herd gorged themselves thoroughly. Once they were done, Daisy’s foals had their first milk not made from moldy dry grass, and they drank themselves almost to bursting.
A few hours later, Daisy was roused from a late afternoon nap by tiny voices. “mumumumum” Looking down, She saw that both foals had their eyes open and were trying to say their first words. As it turned out, they both managed to say ‘mummah’ at the same time, and Daisy was happier than she could ever remember.
“GASP! Daisy babbehs am tawkie babbehs!” She called to the others as hugged her foals tightly. Even the smarty stopped raping one of the poopie babbehs to come and take a look. One by one the rest of the herd waddled over to listen to the foals, who by now were forming statements as their vocabulary rapidly expanded along the pre-programmed route.
“Babbeh wike miwkies!” The pink filly declared proudly.
“Babbeh wub mummah!” The green colt added.
“Smawty wub wape!” The smarty concluded before raping Daisy yet again, but she was in too good of a mood to be that bothered by it.