Pistol, pt 7, by Grim

The next day was chilly and cloudy, but again the herd spent most of it walking, only stopping to gorge themselves on whatever clumps of leafy plants they found. Around noon, Daisy’s colt wandered to the back of the line to talk with Brownie.

“Bwonie, babbeh wan heaw mow 'bout da owd smawty fwom yu” he said, beaming at the stallion.

Brownie looked around quickly before answering the foal, “Weww, fiwsties, yu daddeh nu wa jus a smawty, yu daddeh wa a weaw smawty-fwend.” He said, proudly remembering his good friend.

“Babbeh hab tinky pwace uh-ohies.” The colt said, shaking his little head as if his thoughts simply needed to be jostled into place.

“Yu mean babbeh hab confusies.” Brownie said with a smile, “Wha Bwownie say dat gib babbeh confusies?”

“Bwownie say dat daddeh nu wa a smawty, bu wa a smawty-fwend. Am smawty nu da same tink as smawty-fwend?”

“Nu. Da smawty jus teww hewd wha tu du, bu nu wewwy cawe 'bout da hewd fwuffies, fow da smawty, da hewd jus dewe tu make smawty wife easiah. If da hewd am attackied by a bawkie munsta, smawty gon wun 'way an webe da west ob da hewd tu gu fowebah sweepies. Da smawty-fwend am a fwend tu ebewy fwuffy in da hewd. Da smawty-fwend wisten tu wha da hewd wan an nee, an den do dey besties tu get dose tinks fow da hewd. Ib da hewd am attackied by a bawkie munsta, da smawty-fwend gon wun wight at da bawkie munsta tu twy an sabe da hewd, ow at weast gib dem time fow wun 'way.”

“Su da hewd du ebewytink fow da smawty, bu da smawty-fwend du ebewytink fow da hewd?” The green colt asked, completely oblivious to the new smarty walking up behind him.

“Wha am widdwe babbeh doin wi da poopie-dummeh?” The smarty said, looking and sounding very angry. “Am smawty gon nee gib babbeh owwies tiww babbeh fowwow da wuwes?” With that, he pushed the colt onto his back with a hoof, which he then held menacingly in the air.

“Uh…” The colt said, “Babbeh weggies hab hewties su babbeh wa gonna makies da dummeh-poopie fwuffy cawwy babbeh 'cause da dummeh-poopie nee du whaebah babbeh say, 'cause dummeh-poopie fwuffy am wook wike poopies an babbeh nu am wook wike poopies.”

The smarty froze for a moment, as if his brain was buffering.

“Weww why babbeh nu jus say su! Dat sum smawty tinkies babbeh! Yu jus might gwow uppies to be a smawty yusewf wun day!” Smarty said before waddling to the front of the herd, leaving the green colt still lying belly up on the ground.

“Dummeh nu-mawty…” the colt said as Smarty left earshot.

By the time they stopped for the day, the forest was thinning out somewhat, and the vroom-vroom noises were much louder now. Most of the fluffies spent the early evening ravenously devouring the grass, although since here there was plenty to eat, none of them went to sleep hungry.

While the mummahs were grazing and their crotchtits slowly swelled with milk, all the foals in the herd played a game of huggies-huggies-taggies, where they sat in a circle and one of them would go around giving huggies to fluffies until they instead tagged one of them and then tried to run around the others before they could be tagged back. It rapidly dissolved into a chaotic mess but, since they were called away for mummah miwkies before any feelings got hurt, the game was considered a great success.

Before long, the foals were all swollen with mummah miwkies and rapidly drifted into a peaceful sleep.

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Shoutout to @LemonCurds for this chapter’s lovely artwork!


Dummy no-smarty, haha

@LemonCurds does beautiful work, as usual.


That not-smarty’s days are numbered.

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