Toy and Basil had been allowed to sleep without much issue coming their way during the night. Any thoughts of trying something was made difficult by the issue of Pretty deciding to sleep in the area where the nursing mummahs and foals were kept. One of her derped poopies stood squarely in front of the hatch and if they tried anything, everyone within the impromptu saferoom would be in serious danger.
Though to say Toy slept well would be a lie. She could lay there for maybe fifteen minutes before her remaining eye popped open to see if the stallion had moved away from the room where Pretty had hidden herself off in. He didnât. In fact it seemed as if he hardly moved at all. Basil quietly snored next to her though. He hadnât been able to sleep the night previous. As much as he was scared and hurt, there was no way to deny biological needs.
Night slid into morning and finally all of the fluffies began stirring about. Finally the poopy guarding the access panel moved away and Pretty came squeezing out of the room, but she wasnât alone. There were four talkie-babbehs following her. Toy had a horrible realization what was going on. Those were Jollyâs foals.
Pretty led the group of them over to the corpse of their father. He still lay on the floor after having his jaw forcibly removed, face squished in after having rammed himself into a wall in a fit of sheer panic and pain.
âNuuuu! Daddeh! Nuuu!â One of them cried out, promptly shitting himself out of sheer desperation at the sight of his daddehâs grisly corpse.
ââCooâŚhuggies âfo huwtiesâŚpwease wakesies daddehâŚâ A mare sniffled while attempting to hug the body awake.
The other two were slumped down on the floor, hiding their faces to try and deny the reality in front of them.
âSu sowwy babbehsâŚ.dis am dummeh munstah Toyâs fawt. Su su saddiesâ At that announcement from Pretty, the foals would march up to Toy. Just the other day they had loved her. Now she looked like a munstah because of the face goring sheâd taken yesterday and were being told that sheâd killed their father, who while was an asshole was still their own.
âMunstah! Haechu!â The one who shit himself spat at her, going forward to slap her with a hoof. It didnât hurt physically of course but it gave her the wowstest heart-huwties.
âSissy Toy am munstah? Huuuuu! NUUUUU!â One of them flopped on the ground, throwing a tantrum and kicking their limbs in a fit of emotional outpouring.
ââŚSowwy babbehs.â Was all Toy could tell them. She looked down to the floor, unable to meet their sad and angry eyes. After being berated by them for awhile, Pretty shooed them away back to their little hidey-hole. After they were safely put away, the mare was back to mock her.
âHewd haechu, dummeh Toy! Pwetty am bestest naow! Munstah mawe am jusâ poopies now!â She giggled and pranced around, jumping and skipping happily. Basil and Toy watched her carry on for awhile until she stopped, sitting down and swishing her tail against the floor.
âHewd say Toy am bestest nummies findeh. Yew am get Pretty bestest, pwetty nummies! âAn yew wun away, Pretty gib babbehs fowebba sweepies!â She told them. Of course they would have to work. Likely harder than ever. As long as she had the threat of the foals to hang over Toyâs head, she wouldnât be going anywhere.
So with that they were allowed to leave the place, Basil tagging along with Toy. Pretty had sent one of the poopies along with them, though not to ensure they didnât run. She was pretty sure Toy wouldnât. No, he was there to make sure they didnât eat any of the nummies. After all the only nummies they were allowed to have was the babbeh sheâd offered them the previous night.
Several times Basil had attempted to bolt and run. Yet Toy needed him. He might very well be a stranger, but he was one of the only things she had to try and make things right again. Each time he tried to run, Toy grabbed him by the tail or mane and gave him a slight tug back to position. They needed to find nummies, and she couldnât carry it all by herself.
So they would poke here and there. Mushrooms which were edible, but those werenât exactly âprettyâ. There were some berries, also good nummies and pretty enough. Still not enough.
Eventually they came across a small cluster of very enticing looking flowers. Basil seemed relieved to see this, as there were quite a few of them.
âWook!â He reached out with his mouth in an attempt to take a few, but Toy stopped him with a hoof to the rear.
âNu, dummeh! Dey am bad nummies!â How did she know? They were the same thing that had given one of her siblings, Teebee, the wowstest sickies ever. They had been playing out in a field by the nest one day and he had gobbled up more than a few of the pods hanging from it. This was a castor bean plant, and though she didnât know the name for it, she knew it was very bad to eat. There was a reason why she was one of the best nummy finders.
ââŚ.â Toy stared at the plant. Bad nummies. Wowstest sickies. âBasiw. Wiw yew pwotec babbehs?â She asked him.
Basil stared at her. âWha?â
âPwotec babbehs âfo Toy. Am gib Pwetty wowstest nummies. Am gib Pwetty fowebba sweepies.â Toy had already began collecting some of them, carefully clutching the things by the stems so she wouldnât eat any on accident.
ââŚOtay.â He agreed. Between Toy and Pretty, he was sort of frightened of both. Saying no to either one of them seemed like a consequence waiting to happen. With that agreement in place, they trotted back to the nest with their collection of food. Both innocent and dangerous.
Back at the nest, Toy would find in horror that the remaining stallions from her herd had been eating the corpse of Jolly. It seemed that Pretty had no intention in sharing her pretty things, because as soon as Toy and Basil dropped their goods she began to gorge herself on all of it. Berry juice stained her mouth, flowers were chewed with apparent relish, the mare giving delighted tip-taps with her hooves.
âSu su yummeh! Bestest nummies!â With a glint of malice in her eyes, Pretty looked up. âNeeâ funsies!â
Toy had a pretty good idea of what funsies meant. She stamped her hoof down on the concrete. âNaow, Basiw!â This was the only time to do it. The only way to make her plan work. There was nobody guarding the place where the babbehs were kept since theyâd just came back. Basil broke away from the group, squealing with fear and thinking heâd be snatched back and punished at any moment. He made a mad dash to the access panel, the thing only big enough to let one fluffy in or out at a time. Sliding into it, he would safely secure himself at the other side.
âWha!?â Pretty screeched, stamping her hooves. âDummeh, get wowstest Basiw!â The derped brown fluffy obediently shuffled off to the access panel, getting down and trying to squeeze in. Moments later he would withdraw with a warbling howl of duress, the top of his head broken open after having received a stinging hail of stomps from Basil. The little drab olive fluffy might be weak but getting into the room would be difficult to achieve with even him watching over it.
âHmph!â Pretty understood what was happening now. âToy fink she am bestest than Pwetty? Hewd haechu! Pwetty hab herd! Toy hab nuffinâ!â It was true, too. Except for Basil guarding the babbehs, she didnât have anyone to help her.
So it began. If Basil wouldnât come out, they would just give Toy lots of hurties. She was stomped on. Her mane and tail were pulled, the mare being dragged around the room as if she were a ragdoll. Pretty poked at her sides with her horn, not enough to severely damage her but enough to cause the former leader of the herd to give a warbling scream of pain.
âPwetty am bestest! Pwetty am gib all babbehs âfo enfies tu hewd! Su su bad munstah Toy am watch babbehs hab wowstest speciaw huggies!â Pretty screeched at her, which was maybe why she hadnât been given forever sleepies yet. All she needed to do was wait. How long? She didnât know. The hurties were so bad. Teeth were knocked out from her mouth. Her tail and mane remained in bloodied scraps, and there were scratches and puncture wounds all along her side.
Yet it would come eventually. Waiting did pay off. Laying in a puddle of her own blood, curled up as abuse rained down from above, she heard Pretty give a pitiful moan. âPwettyâŚnu feel pwettyâŚâ The mare exclaimed, collapsing to the floor as a wave of diarrhea flooded out of from her. Her body shook, legs spasmed wildly, a cascade of vomit pouring out to the concrete in front of her. âH-HewâŚâ She tried to call out to someone, though this was interrupted by another bout of vomiting and coughing.
âSmawty mawe am sickies!â Claimed Glue, the former lookout stepping back.
âNu am pwetty! Nuuuu!â Cried out another, apparently in duress. What if he got wowstest sickies too?
âAm smawty nao! Dis am Waisinâs hewd nao! Am hab bestest enfies ân nummies!â The newcomer to the title, a sly brown and purple stallion named Raisin, piped up. Little did he know since he was distracted, Toy had risen up from her place on the floor. The mare sprang at him and speared himself into him with the strongest headbutt she could muster, sending him sprawling to the concrete with a crack of ribs and a surprised squeal. Before he could have time to react, she was over him and had began to stomp. Fragments of skull and brain matter dripped to the floor as she pounded down on him.
âDis am Toyâs hewd!â She called out to them, one of Raisinâs eyes rolling across the floor as she continued to mash down on what remained of his head. âAm gib awe munstahs fowebba sweepies!â
Injured as she was, barely even able to keep on her hooves right now, these stallions were not exactly the brightest as proven with their past actions. They were also not brave. After seeing Raisin getting his head smashed in and Pretty on the floor basically shitting and puking her skeleton out because of sickies, they werenât going to try and push their luck further. They each ran screaming out of the nest, some of them frightened enough to trip and go sprawling to the ground only to crawl out with haste.
Left alone with Pretty and her poopies, Toy leveled her eye on the mare. Everything was going blurry. It felt like she was having sleepies even while standing. Yet she advanced on the munstah.
âBwuâŚbwuâŚâ She attempted to call out to the poopies. They would do nothing if they didnât receive a direct command from her. Simply watching with dumb, dead eyes. Pretty wasnât able to get a command out before another wave of cramps and crippling vomiting caused her to add to the puddle in front of her.
Toy didnât even have the strength to give her stompies anymore. The world looked all blurry, like she was under wawa. Lifting a hoof up, leg quivering from the abuse she had received and the weariness washing over her, she pressed it down against Prettyâs neck. The mare coughed and sputtered, stomach spasming, another bout of vomit attempting to be brought out. Pretty choked and gurgled, head lashing back and fourth. Toy didnât relent. All she had to do was stand, even if that was difficult. With a shake, violent tremors, and one last blast of bloody diarrhea, Pretty had stopped struggling. The mare went limp, surrounded by everything sheâd expelled.
âHafâŚhafâŚâ Toy finally stepped off her neck. Took a few steps away, wobbled, attempted to keep her balance. Finally she pitched over onto her side. All of the babbehs were safe. She heard a voice. Distant. All she wanted to do was sleep for awhile.
(Epilogue coming soon)
She wasnât there when that happened, her second in command was dead and eaten, the third dude who was to be in charge wanted a piece of the poopie place action