Continued from this.
You are Spork, a grey and yellow earthie mare sitting atop a broken down car, waiting for the nummie finders to return to your herd. It is your herd, some of the fluffies call you Smarty Spork, or just Smarty. You didn’t care much for the title, but they seemed to like it. The old smarty of the herd died to a rolly-monster that was eating the trees surrounding your old home, you took over after. It was hard, convincing the toughies that you knew best and a few decided to take their special friends and leave. You didn’t stop them, and that seemed to endear you even more in the eyes of the rest of the herd.
You moved the herd into the city, something you had been telling the old smarty to do for some time. The forest had plentiful food, but harsh weather and dangerous creatures. The city was much safer, with less food but no birdy monsters to grab fluffies or long monsters to swallow babies whole. You found a large building with a warm, dry basement that fit the herd nicely. Unknown to you, it was an abandoned parking garage stuck in legal limbo after the owner died in a horrific bowling accident. What you knew is that it was safe and secure, with no rain coming in and soft car interiors to set the mummahs up in.
All in all, things were going pretty good.
“Fin guud nummies?” You asked Sparrow as he rounded the corner.
“Yus! Jus widdwe tho.” He started pulling leaves out from behind his wings, the fluffies following him unloading their fluff as well.
“Gib bestest nummies to mummahs an soon mummahs, den shawe west wif hewd.” You hopped off the hood of the car. “Spowk gun do wounds.”
The parking garage was safe from most predators, you had seen some squeaky monsters in the dark corners, but they would skitter off into their holes when you approached. You worried they might get bold and try to take nummies, or worse, a baby, but that was a bridge to cross when you got there. For today, you had to patrol. The clearly defined borders of your territory were simple and easy to defend unlike the unclear boundaries of the forest patch. However, with the weather getting wetter and colder every day you had already had to turn a few small groups away. A handful of kind fluffies were added to your herd, ones that would accept your leadership and not make trouble.
“Whewe Spowk guin’?” Leafy asked, leaning out from the discarded box he and his special friend Spark had made a nest in.
“Gun wawk awound, wook fo meanies.” You didn’t stop, plodding your way up the ramp that led outside.
“Toughie gu wif, Mawe nee-”
“Spowk nu need yu.” You said calmly. “Spowk can handwe.”
Leafy scoffed, but went back to his nest. Not every previous member of the herd was accepting your leadership well, especially the toughie old guard. The previous smarty had instilled in them that stallions were strong, mares were weak. Even though they accepted your leadership, they viewed you as brains alone. A social creature, good at dealing with petty disputes but useless in a fight. You could handle yourself just fine, not that any of them saw the value in avoiding a fight. Fights took energy, time, lives. Rarely worth it when some strong words or compromising would work. You had no idea what having special lumps had to do with any of that.
Squeezing under the boards blocking the entrance to the garage, you stepped out into a light rain. You were all the way at the edge of the city, where forest sprawled in one direction and used car dealerships went in the other. A good place for a herd, a decent amount of garbage from nearby office buildings but few humans to yell at you for it.
Far too good for one herd alone, it seemed. A few fluffies were marching towards the ramp and when they saw you they puffed out their cheeks. Problems it seemed. You sat down just under the overhang where it was dry to wait for them.
“Am Smawty!” The blue pegasus out front announced, standing tall in front of you. “Smawty mobe hewd to dis pwace!”
“Nu.” you replied.
“Nu?!” The smarty balked. “Am Smawty! Mawe wisten!”
“Nu, am Smawty Spowk. Dis my pwace.”
The smarty stared at you wide eyed. “…Nu? Mawe nu can be smawty?”
“Am smawty.” You replied calmly. “Gu way, no woom fo yu.”
“Smawty am bestest smawty!” He screamed, his shrill voice echoing off the concrete behind you. “Dis am Smawty’s pwace! An yu am DUMMEH MAWE!”
He raised his hoof as if to hit you, nose raised with an air of superiority. You darted under him and slammed your forehead into his chest, knocking him onto his back.
“Dis am Spowk’s wand.” You said, rearing up. “Am Smawty.”
You got to see a moment of shock on his face before your hooves cracked through his skull. His toughies gasped. You held your hooves in the gore, feeling him struggle feebly below you. Stupid. A waste. Another fluffy who got too big for his fluff and decided the world belonged to him. His blood pooled around you, soaking into your grey fluff and bubbling up from what used to be his jaw.
“Nu… nu huwt…” One of the toughies muttered. He flinched as you turned to him.
“Den gu way. Nu cum back.” They nodded and turned to run, scardy poopies trailing behind them. Cowards.
You stepped off the short-lived smarty, scraping the worst of the gore off on his side. His chest still heaved, and there were low moans bubbling up through his throat as you grabbed his tail and dragged him to the nearby dumpster. Hopefully the people that came to take the garbage would take him away too, before bigger monsters caught the smell of boo-boo juice.
“Am sowwy,” you said to the twitching corpse, “nu wan huwt, but nee pwotec hewd.” You turned around and walked back in, content that your display would keep others away for some time.
“Smawty Spowk!” Leafy wriggled out from under the boards. “Toughies hewd yewwing an-‘’ He stopped, staring slack jawed at the mess soaked into the fluff around your hooves.
“Nu wowwy. Gu bak in, get nummies.” You gave him a small smile. “Smawty deaw wif.”