This is an offshoot series taking place directly after Bad Mummah Ch. 5!
After practically getting chased out of Loretta’s house, Jitters remained in a mental fog for a while. He hadn’t even noticed that he still had the crying foal in his hands until he was already halfway to his house. Then he remembered that everything he’d bought from the store was still back at Loretta’s. Damn.
He couldn’t go back there. Not with everything going on right now. He stared at the foal, stroking a finger over it’s tiny head and trying to figure out what to do. His brain felt like it was buzzing with static. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself, and if he didn’t get his slippery thoughts together, he’d continue to spiral.
Luckily, his body decided what to do for him in the form of a growling stomach. He needed food. Judging by the teething and whining from the tiny colt, so did he. Taking a deep breath, Jitters numbly trudged back to the convenient store.
“Well… Home, sweet home…”
Jitters closed the door and flicked on his living room light. The supply run was thankfully uneventful. Jitters had gotten some raised eyebrows from a couple of customers as well as the cashier when the foal kept fussing practically the whole time. He didn’t miss the suspicious squint the cashier gave him when they saw the foal and how his hands trembled while fumbling to give them cash. Probably assuming that he was an abuser with a new squeaky victim… Outside of that, the trip home was quick and relatively quiet.
“Okay, just… Need to get changed, and then I’ll set us up with dinner…” He said, more to himself than anything. The adrenaline rush from today’s unexpected fiascos left him feeling so drained. Setting the bag of food on the kitchen table, he carried the foal to his room.
“Just stay here, I’ll be right back.” He assures, placing the alicorn down on his bed before moving to his closet to find a loose t-shirt and comfy pajama pants.
You are a foal. You don’t know where you are. You don’t really know much of anything, but you do know that you have the worstest scardies. Where was Mummah? Why didn’t she answer your cries? Where did the Monster take you? You try to remember…
You remember having hurties, and loud voice screaming, and something about a monster. The loud voice called YOU a monster, but… But that couldn’t be true! You didn’t do anything wrong! You were a good babbeh! You remember being so cold, and feeling so yucky. You cried for Mummah, hoping she would give you licky cleanies and milkies, but she didn’t. Instead you were given big uppsies, and carried away. You remember hearing a mummah song, was that your mummah? It must have been, but- She didn’t clean you, or give you milkies, and she certainly didn’t love you… The song gave you heart hurties…
You remember hearing voices, big voices, saying things you were too little to understand. It was scary. You wanted Mummah! You were carried away again, the sounds of your siblings getting further and further.
Then you remembered her. You remembered her sweet voice, and her soft fluff. She cooed and gave you licky cleanies. Told you to not have any more heart hurties, cause Mummah was there. She was Mummah.
You miss her so much. You remember her smell, her fluff, her mummah songs. You remember how she saved you from the worstest heart hurties. Then you remember her screams. Her cries for the big voices to not take you. Begging for them to not steal you from her. You remember your fear. How loud everything became. How the monster holding you screeched and shook you as Mummah tried to save you from it.
You remember that the monster stole you away, and carried you so far, far away from Mummah. You had cried for forever, but no one helped you. Now you were all alone. On a soft place that smelled like the monster. A Monster nestie. You are terrified.
The monster comes back and picks you up. You cry, and try to squirm away.
“Hey, hey, calm down now, it’s just me.” It says, petting you along your back. It feels nice, and your crying quiets. The monster hasn’t eaten you yet… Maybe, if you’re a good enough babbeh, it’ll bring you back to Mummah?
“Alrighty, let’s get food…”
You’re moved again, carried away to some other place. It’s colder here than on the soft monster nest. You’re set down on a hard surface. You don’t like it. You peep, whimpering as you try to sniff your surroundings. There’s too much to smell, and it overstimulates your little nose. Nothing sounds familiar either.
You hear a clicking noise, then rushing water. It scares you! You hear more shuffling sounds, and then a liquid being shaken in a container.
“Alrighty, give that a few minutes and it’ll be good to go!” The monster voice says, “You stay right there while I put the rest of this stuff up.”
The monster steps away, moving things. Now’s your chance to escape! You have to get back to Mummah! You have to try! You force your weak little leggies to move, your soft baby hooves pushing you along the surface of the smooth ground as far as you can until-
You fall.
Your useless, featherless wings flap as hard as they can as you tumble head over heels off the counter.
“OHSHITFUCK-” The monster shouts, it’s big heavy stomps rushing toward you.
There’s a loud thumping, sliding noise, and you find you’re no longer falling. The monster caught you, squeezing around you tightly. You’re still scared, but you’re alive.
The monster groans, and you peep and squirm, trying to reorient yourself in it’s grasp as it loosens it’s grip around you.
Not even ten minutes in his home and the damn foal nearly died from falling off his kitchen counter. It peeps in his hands, squirming against his fingers. Jitters exhales, partially from relief as well as frustration. He probably should’ve known better than to leave it so high up.
At least it was still alive. Plus… Now Jitters knew just how badly he really needed to sweep and mop his floors…
Getting up, he checks the foal over for damages, luckily, the little bugger seemed perfectly fine. Jitters on the other hand had skinned his elbows and nearly busted his face on the cold tile. It’d be fine though. He was no stranger to having some bumps and bruises.
Taking a look around his kitchen, he sighed. He was not prepared in the slightest for taking care of this foal. “I’ve gotta find a shoe box or something…”
He’d save that necessity for after dinner though. The water heating the bottle of foal formula was hot enough now that it should be ready. Taking the bottle, he carefully squirted a dollop onto his wrist to check the temperature. That’s how you’re supposed to do it, right? Gods he hoped so.
It didn’t feel cool, and luckily it wasn’t burning at all, so he chanced it as good enough and held the nipple of the bottle up to the foal’s face. “Okay, little guy, time for dinner…”
The foal on the other hand was not willing to be any part of this. It fussed and squirmed and pushed away with all it’s tiny might. “C’mon, it’s milk, it’s good for you… Sooner you can eat, the sooner I can make you a place to sleep and then I can have my own food…”
He squeezed the bottle lightly, allowing some of the formula to dribble out and onto the foal’s mouth. After another moment of the foal processing what it was tasting, it finally latched, suckling at the bottle in desperation. It’s hunger finally making it cave and accept the nutritious milk substitute.
“There ya go, kid, that wasn’t so hard, now was it?”
Loretta and Trixie belong to @UndercoverPallasCat
