It’s nice to see the fluffies decompressing again, because this is going to be a long fucking day. All four of you are just sitting at the kitchen tables, gazing out over the general play area. Mia is taking some time to reconnect with Lucky Star, who has come running up to hug her mummah and chatter all about the other the fluffies she has been playing with, and how much she likes it here, while Mark is making what seems to be some kind of stressful phone call, Christ help him. You feel like at least five years older and it’s not even time for lunch yet. When you say to Walter, he just snorts.
“How you think I feel, missy? I probably am old enough to be your granddad.”
You shrug, watching Sundae rolling around on the floor with some of the foals, which is always a hit. “If you started young. I’ve got good skin, people undershoot me.”
Walter laughs. “And black don’t crack, I’ll be eighty if I don’t get hit by a bus before October.”
You can feel the look of astonishment on your face. “Wait, what?! Goddamn, I would’ve said like, seventy-two!”
He just grins at you, one tooth obviously a cap, because it’s not stained by coffee like the others. “Told you.” Looking over at Dawn again, where she’s chasing Raincloud in circles, his expression turns serious. “I got my plans made, though. Ain’t no way, no how I’m just gonna die and leave Dawn with no one to care for her.”
“You’re a good gwampa,” you tell him, and he waves a hand at you.
“Go on with you,” he says, but you can tell he’s pleased.
It’s good to make someone feel better, because you can’t help the little knot of dread forming in your stomach. What’s coming up next is basically fluffy group therapy, and you’re really not sure you can cope. You have to be there to support Sundae, you’re going to cope, but fluffies suffer so much, and you have so many not even bad, just really difficult memories of your own experiences with group therapy, and just… yeah. You’re not looking forward to this. But when the time comes, Sundae trots along ahead of you looking a little nervous, but much more curious, with Dapple right beside her. It’s gotta be a good sign that she’s not riding in your shirt, right? Even if you kinda wish she would, since then you’d have her all silky and puffy and warm and heavier for her size than a person would expect, snuggled up over your heart, where it’s safe. Man, you’re more fucked about this than you realized.
At least it’s not a huge crowd. Lucky Star has already scampered away again, leaving your stallion encounter class, the little black and white alicorn who had had to be chaperoned right when you got here, a big, fuzzy, yellow earthie mare, a dark green earthie stallion with a shaggy brown mane and two artificial front legs made out of gold-toned metal, and a tiny pink and white alicorn. She looks timid and fragile, and you just want to give the poor little thing a hug. The girl holding her is a perfect match, and the pair of them make you want to feed them. The slim and elegant man with the two-legged stallion is an odd match with the dumpy, shaggy little pony, but the two gaze at each other with a devotion that’s really beautiful to see, the black and white alicorn is with a guy who looks like his teardrop tattoo is probably the real thing, heavy, ‘if anything happens to this fluffy I’m going back to prison’ energy, and the yellow mare’s human is an older woman in glasses and a cardigan, who looks like someone’s nice grandmother.
Leading this whole session is Doctor Lisa, a woman about your age with dishwater blonde hair in a long ponytail, and the kind of colorful, comfy clothes, and sweet, sad smile that usually marks social workers and pediatric psychologists who actually care. You’re the newest person here, so you get introduced around the circle. Thanks to your long-ass drive, the other members of Sundae’s class got to touch base before you got here yesterday, and Domino is in more of a senior and advisory role, given that she has found a special friend of her own, and everything. She’s very familiar with Sunshine Feels, having grown up going to the daycare run by the same people. Her human’s name is Julio, and you have the feeling that tagging along to group therapy for his fluffy has been good for him.
The yellow mare is named Sunshine, and her human is Margaret, not Meg or Peggy. The stallion’s name is Hank, and he’s here with Daniel, who is clearly kindred spirits with Mia, also effortlessly well-dressed in a sea of scrubby bastards. Finally, the poor little Alicorn’s name is Valentina, and her human’s name is Heather, a very serious-faced kid who is probably just barely old enough to sign all the forms for herself.
Introductions done, and water and tissues secured for the session, it is time for the sharing to begin. Ugh. You do your best not to obviously turtle into your jacket with how much you hate this crap. At least you can see that Julio is in the same mood. Solidarity.
