Hey all! Just migrating my story over to this website as opposed to the subreddit, don’t mind me!
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Jette felt like her heart had been crushed. Her Daddy had told her she would never have special huggies, never be a mummah! That was so silly of him, She had decided that she would be the best mummah. She was, after all, the prettiest and best fluffy, as Daddy always told her. How could she not be the best mummah, who would have the best babies? Sometimes Daddy was a real dummy!
Jette did what any smartest, prettiest, best fluffy would do; she escaped, determined to find a special friend. She’d prove to Daddy that her babies would be the best. Just like she was. Then he would see what a dummy he was being, and he would feed her nothing but spaghetti to make the best milk for the best babies, because she would be the best mummah. It all made so much sense to her.
But being out and about was making her well groomed black fluff dirty, and she could even feel bugs crawling through her almost-black purple mane, even occasionally biting her! How dare they? Didn’t the buggies know she was the best fluffy? That she was going to be the best mummah? Daddy would have to give her a warm, pretty smelling bath when she got back. She hated the water, but loved the smell of the soap, and feeling so pretty afterwards!
It had been a forever, maybe two. Jette’s soft hooves were muddy, and sore from walking on the hard packed earth and the twig ridden forest floor. She realized that she did not remember the way home, and her tummy rumbled and gurgled with hunger. She hadn’t considered she might get lost. She couldn’t be! She was too smart to be lost, Daddy always told her how smart she was!
Hunger and loneliness were making things more difficult, and the dimming light of a setting sun made shadows stretch into frightening shapes. Wind howled and whistled through trees, making loud and frightening noises.
“Pwease sky baww! Nu wet dawkie time come! Jette am scawdie! Nee’ find daddeh housie. Wan’ nummies and fwuff tee bee and bwockies and baww, and sof bwankies fow sweepie time.”
The unicorn mare pleaded to the sky. She waited for a literal response, and after a few moments of silence she decided to make her own solution.
“Dummeh skybaww no wisten tu Jette. Skybaww am bigges’ meanie!” she continued complaining similarly as she gathered mosses, fallen twigs of pine, and stray bits of fern into the hollow of a rotting tree.
“-buu huu huu- Have wowstes tummeh huwties. Whewe sketties? Whewe housie, an daddeh? Jette wan Daddeh! -huu huu-“ She cried and cried, and spent her first night truly alone.