In one second, Lemon Tart was hugging her little pink foal as it chirped in pain. While the rest of her litter slept in a pile, tired from hunger and crying; in the next, two big bawkie munstahs broke through the bush and her babbehs panicked.
“MUMMAH! SABE BABBEH!”
The little foals started running in any direction to get away from the munstahs. Like most of them, the green Pegasus was not so lucky, he ended up in the jaws of one of the dogs.
“SCREEEEEE!!!”
The dog bit down on the foal a few times as it screamed from the pain, and then swallowed it. The other foals were horrified, and many made scawdie poopies on the spot. Lemon Tart cowered with the pink foal in her grasp in a vain effort to protect it. One dog barked loudly while they either tore the foals apart or ate them.
“PWEASE BAWKIE MUNSTAHS!! PWEASE NU NUM BESTEST BABBEH AN BESTEST MUMMAH!!”
For a few moments, it seemed as though the dogs accepted her request and only focused on the other foals, while Lemon Tart and her bestest babbeh were left unharmed.
“MUMMAH!! MUMMA- ACK!!”
“BABBEH HAB WOWSEST OWWIES!! HU HU-UCK!!!”
CHIRP CHIRP CHI- crunch
But as the other foals were being slaughtered, one dog turned its attention to Lemon Tart and her bestest babbeh.
“NUU! PWEASE!! BESTEST BABBEH NU AM FOA NUMMIES!! AM FOA HUGGIES AN WUB!! AN SKETTIS AND TOYSIES!!”
The dog bore its teeth, dripping blood from the magenta foal it had just eaten. It got ready to pounce on them.
whistle “Hey!! Get out of there!!”
The dog turned its head toward the sound.
“Come here, Brutus! Come boy! Come on, Goliath! Come!”
Both dogs quickly got out of the bush, leaving Lemon Tart alone with the pink foal.
sniff “Bawkie munstahs make aww oda babbehs gu foweba sweepies.” sob “Hab… hab onwy won babbeh weft… hu hu”
The pink foal was quietly sobbing with its face buried into Lemon Tart’s yellow fluff. Lemon Tart got back down on all fours and turned toward the crying foal.
“Cwimb mummah’s back babbeh. Nee to weave befoa bawkie munstahs come back.”
The pink foal, still quietly sobbing, climbed Lemon Tart’s fluff onto her back.
“hu hu… hu hu… Babbeh scawed an tiwed… hu hu…”
Lemon Tart looked at the blood spots and corpses of foals that weren’t eaten.
“Mi tu bebbeh. Mi tu.”
Lemon Tart poked her head out of the bush. The dogs were gone. The coast was clear…
Or so she thought, when a bright light flashed on and blinded her.
“SCREEE!!! BWIGHT WIGHT AM BAD FOA MUMMAH!! SCREEE!!!”
Lemon Tart started running around scared. In her rush to get away from the light, the pink foal fell off her back, hitting the grass as Lemon Tart blindly ran out of the yard. It took but a moment for the foal to realize Lemon Tart had left her behind and started to cry for her.
“Mummah!! Why weave bestest babbeh?!!”
The foal cries as the glass door of the nearby house opens and two figures step out onto the grass.
“Shut the door! We don’t want Brutus and Goliath getting out again!”
“Yeah Yeah! I got it!”
The door slides shut, and they walk out into the yard.
“What were those two doing in the bush anyway?”
“Probably a fluffy herd.”
“I guess that explains the blood. We’ll have to wash that off later.”
As they step out further into the yard, they start hearing faint chirping and crying.
“Hu hu!” Chirp
One of them stops in his tracks.
“What was that?”
“What?”
“Don’t you hear that?”
The other guy strained to listen.
“I don’t hear anything.”
After a moment, he changed his mind.
“Oh wait! Yeah, I hear it. What is that?” He asked.
“Sounds like… crying?” They look at each other and then try to follow the chirping.
Chirp chirp chirp!
“Getting louder.”
“Which means we’re getting closer, I think.”
They stop near the bush.
“I can’t see shit! Use the light on your phone.”
The taller guy takes out his phone and turns on the flashlight. He points it down to the ground and waves it around until he sees a little ball of pink fluffy quivering, its face soaked in tears.
“Hu hu… Hu hu…” Chirp!
“Hey check it out!”
The other guy leans down to get a closer look at the foal.
“Guess its mom left it behind.”
The foal, still crying, moved one of its hooves to look at the two guys looking at it. One of them reaches down and picks up the pink foal, gently wrapping his fingers around it but the foal started to scream and beg.
“SCREEE!! Nu bad upsie! Upsies bad foa babbeh!! Mummah!! Hewp bestest babbeh!!”
He brings his hand up to his face to get a good look at the foal.
“This one is a little whinner isn’t it?”
The other guy nods in agreement.
“So what are we gonna do with it?”
The shorter guy stares at the foal for a good minute in thought as it squirmed in his hand fruitlessly to get free.
“Why mummah nu sabe bestest babbeh fwom munstahs?!!”
The taller guy raised an eyebrow.
“Have you noticed it keeps referring to itself as bestest babbeh?”
The other guy nodded. “Last I checked that’s usually the first sign of smarty syndrome in foals.”
“Then we have a potential smarty on our hands here.”
The other guy looked at him and then back at the foal.
“No one’s gonna want to buy this foal. Like you said, it’s showing the first symptom of smarty syndrome. So, what the hell are we supposed to do with something like this?”
The taller guy cradled his chin in his hand while staring down at the ground in thought.
“Classes start soon right?”
“Online classes, yeah. On-campus classes are canceled thanks to the pandemic. What are you getting at?”
The taller guy smiled.
“It would be wise to have a stress ball around.”
…
On the other side of the neighborhood, Lemon Tart was tired from running, tired from crying, and tired from hunger. She stopped by a row of hedge bushes lining a property next to an elementary school to take a breath. Her last babbeh was gone, she was all alone now.
Just days ago, she had a nice herd to take care of her and protect her and her babbehs from harm, but that all came to an end when her smarty fwiend, her babbehs’ daddeh, got caught by the hoomins and scattered them with the loud noisie ting. Now she was starving, cold, and alone.
The deep breaths did nothing to soothe her heart, all her babbehs were dead, and her bestest babbeh was gone, lost. She had no clue where it could’ve gone. One moment, she was on her back and they were going to escape the bush together, then the bwight wight came, she ran. And the next thing she knew, her bestest babbeh was gone.
“Hu hu… am mummah nu moaw… aww babbehs gu foweba sweepies… hu hu”
She started eating the leaves from the bushes. They did not taste all that well.
“Weafie nummies nu taste pwetty.”
But her intense hunger overpowered the bad taste and she continued eating. Tears wet her face as she ate, still lamenting the loss of her babbehs.
“hu hu hu…”
She kept eating until the hunger waned and she couldn’t bear the taste anymore.
“Nu moaw nu taste pwetty nummies.”
She starts walking again. The sun was starting to peek over the horizon as she traveled from the suburbs back into the city where she and her herd came from. Hopefully, she would find another herd to take her in, another smartie to give her special huggies and give her tummie babbehs, make her a mummah again.
Traffic, both on the road and on the sidewalk, started to pick up as morning rush hour began. Lemon Tart started getting scared as more people started to appear on the sidewalks and more cars on the road. She couldn’t trust any hoomins to take her in and let her have babbehs, which is why she ran away from her daddeh in the first place. She ran for the nearest alleyway to give her shelter from both the sun and the people.
She nearly bumps into a young woman who was too busy browsing on her phone to notice her as she ducked into an alleyway behind a restaurant. Finally, free of the light of the sun and the sight of hoomins, she slowly trod down the alley looking for a place to rest.
Despite the leaves from earlier, she was still hungry, but more importantly, she was tired from her journey and she spotted a cardboard box lying on its side for her to sleep in.
“Yay! Nu boxie nestie!”
She walks over into the box, pats the ground with her hooves, and then lies down.
“Nu nestie gud foa nu babbehs!” She yawned before resting her head and drifting off to sleep. Little did she know that this was the territory of a herd. And she was trespassing. Further down the alleyway, a fluffy with a scar over his eye stood and watched when another fluffy came up beside him.
“Who dat, scawface?” The new fluffy asked.
“A wone mawe.” Scarface said. “Nu babbehs wit ‘er.”
The other fluffy squinted his eyes.
“hmmmm…”
“What smawtie wan scawface du?”
“Wait. Some fwuffy ben steawin nummies fwom hewd. Dat mawe might be da cuwpwit.”
Scarface glanced his good eye at the smartie.
“Awe yu shure?”
“Eider she take nummies ow she attwact da weal nummie steawer. Weww see. Keep an eye on hew.”
Scarface squinted. He didn’t like it when fluffies made fun of him having only one good eye. However, the smartie quickly realized what he had said and apologized.
“Sowwy. I men to say to watch hew an see wah she does.”
Scarface relaxed and turned his attention to the sleeping mare down the alleyway as the smartie went back to the herd.
“Wet me know when she does sumting. Am gowin back to sweep.”
“Ok smawtie.”
Scarface kept his gaze on Lemon Tart as she slept while making sure he was in the shadows; able to see all in the alleyway, while also remaining unseen.
Lemon Tart was fast asleep, dreaming about all the babbehs she’ll have once she finds a new special friend. She doesn’t notice another fluffy walk into the alleyway from the same way she came. It was a light blue Pegasus stallion with white tuff.
His mummah was going to cut off his special lumps after he impregnated a feral mare that wandered into their back yard, but he managed to bolt before she could do so, now he could have all the special huggies he wanted.
Coming across the alleyway, he found his next target. Lemon Tart was out like a light, nothing would wake her up. The stallion smiled as his member became fully erect.
“Time foa moaw speciaw huggies!” He wobbled over to Lemon Tart’s exposed special place and prepared for the first thrust. Lemon Tart felt something in her special pwace, but she was too tired to bother and check, and the stallion kept having his way with her.
“Gud feews!” The stallion kept at it as he approached the climax. He sped up his hips and was just about to release.
Then the back door of the restaurant opened.
Fin
To be continued with…
Hewd mummah
the fluffy of war story is a prequel to this. It establishes him and his herd before the sequel I plan for this