Waking up, I notice the herd missing and nowhere to be seen. Wondering if the smarty and his herd was a dream, I check my side. The runt was still there, sleeping peacefully. I lightly nudge him, attempting to wake him without scaring him. He wakes up and yawns, then opens his eyes widely with excitement. He looks around and disappointment fills his eyes as he asks me “Whewe is da hewd smawty?” “I don kno.” I respond. Suddenly, a fluffy voice calls out. Me and the runt start trotting over to the noise, wary of anything that might happen to us. As we turn towards the left side hallway, we see two foals stomping on a “poopie foal”. As I approach, the runt staying behind with disgust towards the two foals on his face, one of the foals turns around with glee on his face. ''Hewwo smawty! We wewe just gibing dis dummeh poopeh fwuffy sowwy hoofsies!" As he finishes this sentence, I smack him away with a light tap, and I sneak behind the other one, I look down with a grimace on my face. I tap him on the shoulder, and as he turns around, I see his smug face turn into fear. The foal runs away, and I check on the poopie. He’s curled up, tears streaming down his face. I lighty tap him, and he looks at me. As he stares at me in fear, he pleads , “Pwease don huwt me smawty, I onwy wanted some kibbwe, but dose two fwuffys stopped me fwom getting some!” I start to smile, and tell him “I won huwt you, in fact, wets go get some kibbwe wigh naow.” As I go towards the kitchen, the runt meets back up with me, amazement in his eyes. “you awe so cool mumm- I mean smawty.” He quickly corrects himself, blushing a bit, and we continue our little journey.
Reaching the kitchen, my senses were filled with fluffy voices, smells, and a giant blob of colors right in front of me. One fluffy notices me and yells out to all the fluffies. “HEWD, DA SMAWTY IS HEWE!” The whole herd faces me and my group, making a path toward the kibble machine, and I start eating. The runt and poopie approach me, and I make room for them at the machine. the poopie comes close, but a stallion stops them. “Onwy smawty an wunt can eat naow.” I glare at the stallion, and he retreats back into the crowd. The poopie continues towards the machine, and starts eating. The poopie is crying with tears of joy as he eats kibble, for seemingly the first time. As we finish, a small mare, seemingly pregnant asks me to follow her. I oblige, and follow the mare.
As she slows down, I see an atrocity. Two stallions, seemingly father and son, are stomping on foals. Two are dead, one has a broken leg, and four are seemingly unharmed. Enraged, I inquire the two fluffies as to what they’re doing. The older one steps up." We awe gibing dese babbehs fowebew sweepies. An we awen’t gonna stop untiw dey awe aww fowebew sweepies." I stare at him for a second, then bite him and slam him into the ground with all my might. The other stallion gasps, then charges, anger filling his ocean blue eyes. Before he can do anything, the runt leaps up and bites the fluffy in the back, causing him to rear up and screech in pain. The runt leaps down, and I charge the stallion. Making contact with his side, I hear a chilling crack and a squelch. He screeches, falls down, and goes silent. The mother rushes to the foals, carefully picking up her hurt one and telling her living foals to follow her.
The runt looks both excited, for going into his first fight, and horrified, due to the atrocity that lays in front of us. My owner, who seemingly just woke up, approached me and started clapping. " Bravo, Angela. That was quite the show." I look at him. “Tank you, Shayne.”