It’s good to be able to relax and play before they have to meet more stallions. Sundae is calmer than she’s expecting to be, but it’s still really nice to just roll a ball back and forth with Terra for a little while, neither of them speaking, as Raincloud runs off a lot of nervous energy, making the others chase her. Sparkle sits next to Terra, heart-hurties still too bad to play, even slowly and quietly like this.
“Tewwa sowwy,” Terra finally says, pushing the soft, bouncy ball to Sundae. It would be great for ball-tag, or high-bounce, but none of them feel like it. “Spawkwe no haf to be hewe fow dis pawt.”
Sparkle shakes her head. “Spawkwe weawnin’.”
“Stawwion wike Mawwon be meanie to yu?” Sundae asks. Although, in that case, shouldn’t Sparkle just be part of the group along with Terra?
Sparkle shakes her head violently, and leans on Terra, eyes filling with tears. “Spawkwe hewe tu weawn ‘bout bwown an’ dawk gween babbehs,” starting to cry harder.
Sundae has seen other mares reject the ‘poopie-colored’ babbehs before, sneering at them for being ugly, telling them they don’t deserve milk or huggies or love, but Sparkle seems so nice! She looks at her, shocked, and Terra shakes her head, meeting Sundae’s eyes over her sobbing sister’s head.
“Spawkwe wub aww babbehs,” Terra says, very firmly, hugging Sparkle tightly. “But meanie hoomans befow nu wub Spawkwe’s babbehs, caww dem ugwy, poopie. Gib dem foweba sweepies.”
Oh, no! So many heart-hurties for Sparkle! Sundae’s own eyes fill with tears, and she drops the ball, rushing to hug Sparkle as well. “So, so sowwy, Spawkwe! So many heawt-huwties!”
Sundae misses all her lost babies, but at least only some of them got forever sleepies right away. Only a few more than her leggies, ever, and three of those had actually been not-good babbehs. No babbehs are bad, but some come out not-good, and forever-sleepies is actually what a good mummah or a kind human does. Her poor little one-eye babbeh, and outside-tummy-skettis babbeh, and no-breathies babbeh, who hadn’t needed any help to go forever-sleepies. Only five-and-two babbehs, not all of her babbehs ever! Lots of them had been alicorns in ‘rare colors’, too, and Boss-Mummah says that humans pay lots of moneys for that kind. No one can be sure, but usually when a fluffy costs lots of moneys, humans are nicer to it.
She coos and trills to Sparkle like Sparkle is a babbeh, and Terra reminds her that they’re safe now, that Mummah wants Sparkle to make pretty brown babies for all those nice humans they met before, remember? And if they’re all dark green they can just stay, because Mummah wants to breed nice fluffies, not just pretty ones.
Sundae looks up when she realizes Sunrise has come to join them. “Fwuffies am otay?”
“Jus’ heawt-huwties,” Sparkle says, sniffling. “Meanie hoomans gib Spawkwe’s babbehs foweba-sweepies fow bad cowwors. Mawwon wook wike pweety bwown babbeh aww gwowed upsies.”
“Meanie hoomans,” Sunrise agrees, lip wobbling, and joins the hug. “Aww babbehs safe hewe,” she says. “Aww babbehs gud.”
Raincloud comes trotting up after Sunrise, a little breathless. “Am otay?” she asks.
“Jus’ heawt-huwties,” Sunrise tells her, as Sparkle rubs at her eyes with the fluff of her front leggies. Raincloud nods, and gives Sparkle a comforting nuzzle before sitting on the floor with a soft thump and a deep sigh.
“Waincwoud hab thinkie-pwace huwties.”
“Waincwoud no hab to make tawkies,” Sundae says, giving Sparkle a last nuzzle and then going to fetch the ball, rolling it to Raincloud, “but can make tawkies if want.”
Raincloud sighs again. “Waincwoud hewe to not be scawe of stawwions, but… Waincwoud confused of stawwions.” She rolls the ball to Sunrise, who passes it to Sparkle, Terra completing the circle and bunting it back to Raincloud. “Waincwoud just a widdle tawkie babbeh, awmost not wemembew.”
Sundae feels sick, realizing what Raincloud is probably saying. It’s bad enough when stallions are cruel to and rough with grown mares, but with foals? Last cold-time, a bad, bad, bad feral smarty had climbed up a snowdrift during some of the only outside-time the foster foals had had in so many forevers, and had grabbed little Sakura by the scruff of her tiny neck. Small even for a talkie-baby, Sakura had been a sweet, timid little earthie, wearing a tiny green sweater against the cold.
Sundae had been playing in the snow with some of the other foals further away and could only watch in horror and scream for Boss-Mummah as loud as she could, but Milly had been right there to give him sorry-hoofsies, nostrils flaring, teeth bared, and eyes shining red in the light reflecting off the snow. She had bitten and stomped and screamed, tearing out big, bloody chunks of his blue-and-brown streaked mane as Sundae had frantically waddled out of the deeper snow, herding all the foals toward the housie as Boss-Mummah had come running out. She doesn’t leave them alone for outside-time in case things like this happen, but of course grown-up humans make good pee-pees and poopies and her litterbox is inside the housie. She says she isn’t allowed to use the poopie-place outside, which seems silly to Sundae.
Milly had already made that bad smarty drop Sakura, and the poor little babbeh had run peeping and chirping to Sundae, who had given her huggies while Boss-Mummah had grabbed the smarty by the back of his neck and slapped him right in his special lumps, making him squeal. She told him that he was a Bad Fluffy, in the most terrible voice in the world, and had taken him into the woodshed. A little later she had come back, taking everyone into the housie and making sure no one had gotten hurt.
Sundae knows that Boss-Mummah had given that smarty forever-sleepies later, and she had been glad then, and she’s glad now, sitting here and rolling the ball with Raincloud. A pretty young mare like her should be finding a special friend of her own, not trying to separate curious, scared, disgusted, and excited from each other, and to unlearn certain colors, coat lengths, and scent cues meaning terror and pain.
“Daddeh says Waincwoud’s fiwst hooman-Mummah was sickies in hew thinkie-pwace.” she says, rolling the ball through the circle again. Dapple has come to join them, while Candy and Dawn are still playing huggie-tag with Spike “Wanted take cawe of fwuffies, couldn’t take cawe of hewsewf. Housie all diwty, tu many fwuffies, an’ nu make suwe fwuffies am gud fwuffies.”
Dapple sighs. “Dappwe bown in diwty housie. Neba eben see out window. Hoomans no wub fwuffy-mama, call Dappwe ‘bad cowwor, nu sell gud,’ and Dappwe know dat mean foweba-sleepies, so Dappwe leabe.” She says it just like that, rolling the ball along as if venturing into a world she had never even seen hadn’t taken levels of courage that are basically insanity.
The others seem to be tiring themselves out, and come to join the circle, Candy cozying up between Sunrise and Raincloud, while Dawn takes Raincloud’s other side, the two of them clearly already friends, and Spike comes to sit between Sundae and Dawn. “Waincwoud feew bettew?” Dawn asks, and Raincloud nods.
“Waincwoud tawkie sum thinkie-pwace fings, it helpin,” she says.
Dawn nods, nuzzling her briefly. “Dawn am gwad stawwions am so nicies an’ cawm.” Sundae has to wonder if some of Dawn’s problem is that stallions her age are still very young and flighty, even the sweetest and gentlest very eager to show off. There’s a general murmur of agreement, and they play quietly for a little while more before Miss Luna calls them to meet the rest of the stallions. So many stallions! Too many to count, but not too many to remember. Boss-Mummah says that some smart humans are learning about how fluffies think, because it’s special, and it’s something about not being able to count very many friends, but being able to remember lots more of them.
Boss-Mummah sits down in the same spot, with Sundae in her lap, and Miss Luna gives each fluffy a piece of apple, one of Sundae’s favorites. After it’s all crunched up, Miss Luna calls for Cobalt, who turns out to be a very handsome blue earthie with a rich red mane and tail. He’s like a more refined and delicate version of Arrokoth. With better colors, not that Sundae puts much stock in that. He has a kind of look like Boss-Mummah gets, almost mad, almost worried, but not? Other humans call her ‘intense’ sometimes, maybe that’s it? It’s not bad.
He reminds her of Number 26, who was barely grown but would fight the other stallions ferociously when they were mean. He had been a good fluffy, and when Boss-Mummah had tracked him down afterward, and found out that he was safe, Sundae had been so happy she had cried, confused to be making sad-water when she hadn’t been sad at all.
Everyone does pretty well with Cobalt, except for Terra, who just hangs back and watches him with wide and wary eyes. Cobalt nods to her, and doesn’t try to speak to her or anything. Sundae can see the relief of that in every line of Terra’s body. Poor Terra. The next stallion after Cobalt is Oak, and she screes and lets out a little squirt of scaredy pee-pees at the sight of him, right in her mummah’s lap! She’s a good fluffy, she must be terrified. Oak just stands there, not moving except for his short, rough tail, gently wagging to express friendliness.
Terra’s mummah doesn’t even seem to notice the pee-pees, just giving Terra huggies and love, cooing to her that it’s okay, that no one is going to hurt Terra, that she won’t let them. She pulls Sparkle into her lap, too, and she hugs Terra tightly. Apparently Oak’s soft brown coat and scruffy olive-green mane and tail aren’t affecting her as much as Marron did before. Oak is so scarred and muscular that it’s probably easier for her not to be reminded of her own sweet, pretty little babbehs.
“Pwetty mawe fwum bad hewd?” Oak asks, very gently, and Terra nods, not daring to look up. “Oak nu huwt hew. Ow any mawe,” he adds. “Sissy am gib fwuffy foweba-sweepies wif hew own hoofsies.”
Sundae is pretty sure he’s joking, at least a little, but Terra looks around and takes in just how many and how big Oak’s various scars are. “Sissy huwt Oak?”
Oak puffs his chest out and stands straighter. “Oak pwotec famiwy!” He taps his face with his hoof. “Bawky-munstah.” He holds his front leggies out. “Meanie hoomans.” He turns, to show his flank. “Meow-munstah.” He goes back to his original position. “Wots mowe.”
“…Oak bwabe,” Terra says at last.
“Sissy am bwaber,” Oak says, and immediately rises in Sundae’s estimation.
(A/N: So, everyone keeps mentioning things that are Controversial territory, but I haven’t used the tag yet. I figure it’s if it happens on the page, or someone describes it really graphically. Please advise.)
ETA: Next post will be tagged for LGBT, you’ll need to have agreed to see gay fluffies to read it. With all the forced enfie-pal stallions in the fandom, I figure Sunshine Feels has to have a nice pair of gay boys for that, “we even prefer other dudes, but no means no, brother!” experience.
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