“GOD DAMN FLUFFIES!” Old Jed shouted, emptying the other shotgun barrel towards the herd, but in his drunken state, managed only to fill a nearby tree with buckshot.
“HEWD IT AM WUNNIES TIEM!” Smarty shouted, desperately trying to run through the skunk corpse he had been humping.
Most of the herd got moving with remarkable speed for fluffies, scrambling toward and across the two lane highway. It was sheer dumb luck that Jed had shown up while there was no vehicle traffic to be seen.
“You bastards are gonna pay for this!” Jed shouted as he dropped all his shotgun ammo a second time before himself falling over a third time. By this point, the only fluffy not on or across the highway was Daisy’s son.
“Angwy Mistah? Am yu ok?” The little green colt asked Jed, who had just managed to push himself up to his knees.
“Ain’t that beat all, I kill one of ya, and keep shooting at ya, but when I fall over you check if I’m alright.” Jed said, settling into a cross-legged sit before taking a careful look at the colt.
“Babbeh saw angwy mistah faww, an nee make showe mistah am ok, wike babbeh du wen odda fwuffy faww obah.”
“Well then little colt, you certainly are a pistol, why don’t you get back to your herd, they’re probably already missing you.”
“GASP! Babbeh am cawwed Pistow?” Pistol said, his eyes lighting up.
“Sure buddy, why not, now get back to your herd before they think you’re dead.” Jed said with a chuckle.
“GASP-GASP! Nu can gib mummah an sissy heawt hewties!” Pistol shouted.
“Sister to a pistol? I guess that’d be a holster.” Jed muttered absentmindedly as he got up to drunkenly stumble back home, shotgun forgotten on the ground.
“GASP-GASP-GASP! Sissy am cawwed Howstah? Pistow nee teww sissy-Howstah dat dey am cawwed Howstah!” Pistol declared as he waddle-olympic sprinted across the still empty highway.
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“An dat am how Pistow git Pistow namesie!” Pistol announced to the herd, who had only just stopped mourning him. They would have mourned Bed, who had been shot by Jed, but Bed didn’t have any speaking lines, and thus had been forgotten.
“Nu onwy dat, bu angwy mistah awso teww Pistow dat sissy am cawwed Howstah” Pistol continued, his tiny hooves almost leaving the ground as he bounced up and down in excitement.
“Angwy mistah gabe oddah babbeh namsie tuu? Dis da best bwight time ebah!” Daisy declared as she scooped Pistol and Holster into a big hug. Due to her orientation in the hug, Holster had to wait to be put back down before responding.
“Howstah am cawwed Howstah… wub nu namsie” Holster said before looking introspective for a moment, at least as introspective as a baby fluffy can while soiling itself.
“Howstah wike hab namsie mowe den nu hab namsie”
Once the herd had finished celibrating the naming of Daisy’s foals via dancing, hugging, and Smarty ass-raping half the mares and a few of the stallions, they continued on their way, although Daisy noticed that the vroom-vroom sounds and smells weren’t getting any fainter.
It was nearly dusk before the herd found a forest clearing deemed suitable by the smarty, who had rejected the first three they came across on the grounds of “Dis wun tuu smaww”, “Dis wun tuu biggies”, and “Smawty nu wan wape fwuffies hewe”.
The mummahs quickly set to gobbling up grass after annilating the few flowers not claimed by smarty for ‘pwetty nummies fow pwetty Smawty’ and before long the herd’s foals were busy guzzling down the ‘bestest pwetty fwowew an sum gwassies’ mikies.
Daisy’s foals released loud belches to announce that they were finished chugging, and both settled down in Daisy’s warm fluff.
While gazing lovingly at her children, the back of Daisy’s brain twinged, leading to her whole head shaking for just a moment as she suddenly knew that it was time to start weaning her foals tomorrow.
The entire herd slept well that night, satisfied with full bellies and soft grassy bedding, blissfully unaware that they were being watched.