In one of the many cramped, dirty stalls of a fluffy mill, a mother fluffy lay on her side, her breaths coming in short, painful gasps. Her once vibrant coat was dull and matted, and her eyes were clouded with exhaustion. This was not her first litter, nor her second, but her body was still not accustomed to the pain and the strain.
Her four limbs had been cruelly amputated, a process the workers of the mill called “pillow fluffing”. It was a brutal act, meant to make the mothers less dangerous to her foals as well as unable to escape.
Two tiny, still forms lay next to her, their small bodies lifeless. Mummah whimpered, her heart aching for the babies she would never know. But she could not dwell on the past, not when she had two more babies to care for.
The oldest was an alicorn filly. Her coat was white as freshly fallen snow. Her miniature horn was a pale pink, matching the short tufts of her mane. The workers had named her Princess. She was a rare sight, even in the mill, and her beauty was undeniable. But Mummah did not see a princess when she looked at her daughter. She saw a monster.
Mummah’s heart was filled with a deep-seated fear and revulsion towards the alicorn. She finished lickie cweanies and guided her to her teat, but she couldn’t bring herself to hold her close and cherish her. Instead, she turned away after her duties were fulfilled, her heart hardened by the cruelty of the mill and her own superstitions.
The only other living baby was a brown fluffy. Her coat was a rich, earthy tone and her young eyes were full of curiosity. The workers had called her Poopy, a name that confused her mother. Why should her munstah baby be given a pretty name like Princess, and her non-munstah baby called Poopy? But she knew that she couldn’t change her name, not without risking the wrath of the mill workers.
Instead, she held Poopy close, her body shaking slightly with sobs for the babies she’d lost, but her heart filled with love. She knew that she couldn’t give her daughter a better life, a life filled with hugs and sketti and happiness. But she could give her love, and she could give her hope.
“You my bestest babbeh, Poopy,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. “Mummah wuvs you.”
Meanwhile, Princess was receiving a different kind of attention from the mill workers. They cooed over her, their voices filled with admiration and greed.
“She’s perfect,” one of the workers whispered, her eyes shining with excitement. “We’ll be able to sell her for a fortune.”
The worker’s eyes then drifted over to Poopy. “Too bad the other one has such shitty colors,” she continued, “Maybe we can sell her as her sister’s Litter Pal.”
The mother fluffy’s heart was cold and unyielding as she watched the workers fawn over Princess. She had no guilt or shame for neglecting her daughter, only a deep-seated belief that the alicorn was a harbinger of bad luck and misfortune. And so, she turned away, her heart heavy and her eyes filled with tears for the one daughter she loved and the future she couldn’t change.
