Pistol, pt 3, by Grim

The next day dawned bright and warm, and this time Daisy’s foals were awake and wandering. Now that their eyes were open, they had an irresistible urge to see all the things and explore everything else.

“Bwudda! Dewe am a fwuffy in da wawa! Hewp sissie sabe fwuffy!” The tiny pink filly called out upon sighting her reflection in a puddle.

The green colt came run-waddle-stumbling over to help, but on first sighting the fluffy in the water, he was struck by how much it looked like his sister.

“Dat fwuffy wook jus wike yu sissy.” He told her, and was amazed when both his sister and the fluffy in the water adopted the same confused look.

“SCREEE! Dewe a nodda fwuffy in da wawa nao!” She yelled, pointing at her brother’s reflection.

The colt looked closely at this second water fluffy, a green unicorn that looked back at him quizzically, mirroring the motions of his head and the flicking of his ears.

“SMAWTY AM HEWE TU HE- oh, yu jus found da dummeh wawa fwuffies.” The smarty said as he ran up to them, having thought that a member of his herd was in trouble. “Dey am dummehs an meanies. Dey jus stay in da wawa wookin at yu tiww yu webe, an eben doe dey twy tu make tawkies, dey just mobe dey tawkie-pwace an nebah make any tawkies at aww.” He stomped on the green ‘wawa fluffy’ as if to prove his point. “Widdwe babbehs nu wowwy 'bout dem.”

The smarty wandered off, which was the first time the babbehs had seen him leave without raping anything, but the colt was far too distracted by the ‘wawa fwuffy’ to notice. Whatever the ‘wawa fwuffy’ was, it sure liked looking at him.

Half-an-hour of 'sploring later, the two foals came upon a small patch of moss.

“Gasp! Sissie! Come feew dis!” the green foal called out after stepping on the moss. It was the softest thing he had ever felt, mummah fluff excluded of course, and he was fascinated by stepping on it and watching it return to its original shape when he lifted his hoof.

“Feew suuu pwetty.” His sister said as she prodded the moss herself. The two of the probably would have stayed longer, but their ‘discussion’ had caught the attention of the smarty, who promptly started raping the moss, at which point both foals decided to go elsewhere. Somewhere with milkies.

As they approached Daisy, who by now was lazily grazing, a thought struck the colt. “Mummah num gwassies, su den am gwassies nummies?” he said aloud, and with no further consideration, he tested the theory by reaching down and ripping up several blades of grass. The grass felt funny in his mouth, and by instinct he started to chew. Or at least he tried to, as his milk teeth were barely erupted from his gums, and most of what he managed to do over several seconds of chewing was just move the grass around. Having failed to shorten the grass at all with his teeth, he tried to swallow it, again on instinct, but gagged on the long grass blades, spitting them out before running the last bit to where Daisy was already nursing his sister.

“Babbeh, am miwkies time, yu nee dwink miwkies fow gwow biggies an stwongies!” Daisy said as he ran up to her unoccupied teat before latching on and going to town.

Mummah wub babbehs, babbehs wub mummah,

mumma gib miwkies, babbehs gwow biggies,

smawty wape mossies, babbehs gwow stwongies.

Later in the day, the colt wandered over to the ‘poopie-munsta’ fluffies, mostly just little alicorn or brown foals. There weren’t many of them (5), he concluded, but one was simply tiny and didn’t even have its eyes open and just chirped into the fur of the older brown stallion.

“Why am yu in da poopies?” The green colt asked the stallion who was several times his size.

The brown fluffy studied the inquiring foal for a moment before responding in a whisper. (actually whispering as opposed to the normal fluffy-whispers which are as loud or louder than normal fluffy-speak)

“Da nu smawty gabe da owd smawty fowebah sweepies an den said dat poopie an munsta fwuffies am onwy fow bad-enfies an onwy 'posed to num poopies. Nu smawty am dummeh, an jus tink fwuffy gonna owny num poopies, bu fwuffy num gwassies when dummeh-smawty nu wook, bu babbehs nee miwkies.” He said, nodding towards the foal he was cuddling. “Dey nu can num poopies ow gwassies, an gonna go fowebah sweepies ib nu num miwkies soonies.” He hung his head for a moment before continuing. “Owd smawty nebah do dummeh-stoopi tinks wike dis.”

“Dewe wa a diffwent smawty 'fowe now-smawty?” The foal asked, incredulous.

“Da owd smawty wa wewwy owd, he made tawkies ‘bout many cowd times, an nu wen dey gon’ starties. Owd smawty towd hewd to piwe up nummies fow da cowd time, an wen da cowd time came, da hewd had nummies to num 'stead ob habbing fowebah-sweepies tummeh-owwies wike da odda hewds.” The stallion looked closely at the green colt, “Owd smawty wa yu mummah speshul fwend.”

“GASP!” The colt was shocked, even though he had yet to spare a single thought as to who his father was. “Den da owd smawty wa-” he was cut off by the arrival of the smarty, who, without a word, spun around and sprayed feces on the brown stallion, who did his best to shield the tiny foal he was holding.

“Dummeh poopie fwuffy num poopies, dummeh.” The smarty declared like it was high level philosophy before he wandered off to rape a nearby stone.

“Come backies next bwite time fow mowe tawkies, yu nu wan dummeh smawty tu tink yu bewong wi da poopies.”

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So, he’s actually not entirely a dummy. He almost understands that they’re fake fluffies.
His perception score is really low, but his luck score made up for it in that fight, haha.