be a model
or, at least, you were
long gone are the days of photo shoots, magazine spreads, or anything of the sort
where you once wore the fashion world’s hottest numbers you’ve been reduced to brightly colored rags
never touched fur before…
before when?
don’t know
all a blur
time is meaningless
start to stir
the flesh underneath you undulates, quivers at your sudden movement
“mummah wake? nu mo’ sweepies?”
voice is nasally, persistent
open one eye, then another
a light pink earth fluffy with bright blue eyes is sitting next to you and looking down
“Yeah, Sweetie… mommy is awake.”
tongue feels like a fat worm in your mouth
throat is completely parched
brush some of the dirty and matted blond hair away from your face
try not to grimace as strands follow your effort
“yay! mummah upsies!”
soft, gentle hooves gently wrap around your makeshift dress in a fierce hug
gently push Sweetie off of you
sit up
no idea where you actually are
like most nights, you slept where you dropped
surprised you don’t feel more tired
warmth from your clothes and the warmth of the fur all around you makes it hard to sleep
sweat like a pig, but no one else is around to complain other than Sweetie about how you “nu smeww pwetty”
whatever
slowly but steadily begin to lift yourself
joints crack painfully
“weggies make funneh sounds!” Sweetie giggles, rubbing her nose against one of your skeletal knees
God
can’t deal with a fluffy this early
about to tell her off when your stomach loudly gurgles
Sweetie’s attitude immediately changes to one of concern
“mummah hung’y? tummeh haf owwies?”
nod
“Mommy hasn’t eaten for a few days now, remember, Sweetie?”
Sweetie gasps aloud, ears flattening in distress
“Sweetie sowwy Sweetie nu membah! wan mummah haf nummies!”
“Don’t worry. We’ll find something soon.”
she doesn’t look entirely convinced, but she’s distracted by you reaching down to stroke her dark pink mane
you’re not confident either
still, with your loyal companion in tow, you set off on your journey to try to not starve to death
don’t remember where you were when everything changed
the memory, just like almost everything else about the World Before, feels so distant and hazy now
broadcasts went off the air long before the point of no return anyway
couldn’t tell the full story to whomever else is left even if you wanted to
trek through the wastes is almost entirely one sided conversation
Sweetie’s mind numbing chatter is one of the few things that keeps you company
mostly just how the ‘ground’ feels so soft, how tired she is, announcing her boredom, or saying she needs to shit or piss
better that than silence
suffering together is preferable to being by yourself
“mummah pway wif Sweetie?”
“No. We need to focus on finding something we can both eat.”
yup
already forgotten this morning
if you didn’t know fluffies were man-made, swear you were stuck in a baby talk-filled purgatory
Sweetie doesn’t even bother to hide her whine
decide to pretend you didn’t hear it
she probably won’t remember it by the time you stop again
go on for what feels like an eternity
no direction
there never is
you’ve long since given up trying to figure out where you are
landmarks, if a term like that even applies, are part of the ever-changing mass of fluff that surrounds you on all sides
a pair of wings fluttering uselessly to your left, a collection of unicorn horns that look almost like a bush a hundred feet to your right
you were even morbidly amused at the enormous teats you saw when you first left your apartment to look for help what feels like another lifetime ago as if they were some kind of perverted mountain
consistency is the last thing to be concerned with
“wingies? howns?” Sweetie murmurs, clearly puzzled at seeing the objects but no accompanying ponies
“Just part of the scenery,” you say, gently kicking her to keep her moving ahead
if you don’t nip this in the bud now she’ll be trying to seek out non-existent fluffies for at least an hour
wonder if the appendages do have owners buried within layers and layers of bone and tissue, but try not to dwell on it
not like you could save them, even if that were the case
not like you care
you and Sweetie travel along what feels like miles of mismatched fluff and you try not to make contact with dozens of large, darting eyes as you pass by them peeking at you from every angle
at least they’re not the field of mouths screaming for “hewp” and how much they “nu wike dawk”
you miss earplugs the most
just as the two of you move past a haphazard patchwork of miscellaneous appendages, Sweetie stops and nudges your shin
“mummah, Sweetie nee’ sippies. yu nee’ sippies?”
slowly try to swallow the sour bile that just began to form in the back of your throat at her words
“Yeah… we’ve been going for quite a while, haven’t we?”
look out at the horizon
feel nothing but numbness at the biomass that stretches in every direction
then you see it
a shimmering trench dozens of yards under you on an outcropping
given its shape, maybe it really was once a pool
steel your nerves
“C’mon, girl. I know just where we can have all the sippies we want.”
attempt to have some dignity at stooping to your fluffy’s level even without any other human presence
can’t
pick up Sweetie
she immediately wraps herself around your arms
“yay! Sweetie upsies!”
must feel like some kind of pony princess given her new vantage point
you begin to clamber down the incline, trying to steady your footing as you do so
it isn’t easy
arms are full with your travel buddy and, even if they weren’t, fluff tears far too easily to get a good grip
still, after as slow and measured a descent as you can, eventually you reach your oasis
Sweetie immediately begins jerking about and she almost falls
“wawa, mummah! mouffie wiww be happies nao! wet Sweetie down, pwease?”
“Stop squirming and I will, damnit,” you say, seething
hearing the anger in your voice is enough to scare her into compliance, letting you lower her onto the ‘ground’
like a race horse bolting straight out of the gate, she toddles as fast as she can
countless tongues whip to and fro spasmodically, their endless drool dripping into the pit below
careful to avoid them you watch as Sweetie moves around the outer perimeter of the crater, trying to find a way to it
“why nu come tu Sweetie?” she grumbles in frustration
every neuron in her brain is hard at work
eventually, she finds a tumor-shaped lump, allowing her to elevate herself slightly and stick her mouth into the liquid
without waiting for a review, you kneel down and scoop some into your hand
it feels disgustingly warm in your palm, oozing through your fingers
“wawm wawa yikky,” Sweetie complains from the opposite end of the depression
mentions this every time you stop to not die of dehydration
“but mummah am smawty. fin’ sippies fo’ us. Sweetie wuv mummah.”
living goddess to your fluffy
total adoration in her gaze
tail is going into overdrive at how proud she is of you
realize you’re still drinking saliva to eke out an existence
fuck
sun is beginning to set
neither you nor Sweetie have found anything
to your surprise, she doesn’t complain even though you can distinctly hear her stomach growling in protest
maybe you’re still in her good graces from finding the two of you ‘wawa’ before
or it could be she’s simply too tired to care
definitely feels like Sweetie has slowed down since your search began
you’re not in much better shape
tried making sandals before, crafting them from leather, but they disintegrated far too easily to be worth the upkeep
your feet have rough callouses on them from their lack of protection, but even still you can feel the pain in every step you take moving forward
don’t have the luxury of stopping
as you round the bend, though, luck finally decides to grace you with its presence
out in the distance you can make out the vast form of what you think might be exposed stomachs
as you draw closer, however, you realize the truth
they’re exposed masses of mare reproductive systems, pulsing and quivering in the twilight, like trees collaborated on by Salvador Dali and David Cronenberg
reminds you of another, just as pleasant memory
once stumbled on what felt like an endless field of near endless fluffy fucking and birthing
a sea of malformed creatures sticking out of the mass of ponies beneath them babbling their typical mantra of “gud feews,” “enf enf enf,” and “bigges’ poopies”
least none of them could get away from you as took as many as you wanted from their number
not sure if it’s better or worse that these lack owners
…
nope
definitely better
you could’ve gone the rest of your miserable life without seeing erect fluffy dick
see one of the grotesque things beginning to bend towards the cobalt blue fluff below it
reach down, pick up Sweetie, and run as fast as you can towards your prize
“See that? We’re eating tonight, honey.”
“nu honey, am Sweetie,” she clarifies confusedly, “mummah fowget name?”
resist urge to chuck her as if you were a pro ball player
doubt you have the upper arm strength left to do it anyway
skid to a halt in front of the disembodied birth canals
watch as veins twitch, muscles push, every one of them straining in overtime
makes you think of some of the vivisection of animals you saw at a field trip once to a natural history museum in middle school
surprised you remember the trip
pretty sure you were making out with Curt Martinez for most of it
move a hand into one of the pockets on your dress with baited breath, feeling the sharpened bone of the small dagger against your fingertips
at last, you hear the telltale ‘schlorp’ of success
blood, placenta, and…
“cheep!” “cheep!” “cheep!”
glance down at Sweetie
no reaction
excellent
move towards the foals, dangling and spinning in circles from the umbilical cords keeping them in place like freakish pinatas
“SKETTIES!” Sweetie practically shrieks
“Good ponies are quiet ponies,” you chide
“I know you can play the quiet game.”
no need to share this bounty with everyone in a five mile radius
“ohtay!” Sweetie whisper-shouts
“Sweetie wuv pwayin’ quiet game wif mummah. Sweetie am good fwuffy.”
that’ll do, pig
place Sweetie beside you and reach out with trembling fingers
just as you knew they would be, the cords are easy to cut
foals immediately smack into the fluff, bouncing slightly as they roll away from their brothers and sisters
looking at you expectantly, you nod wordlessly to your pet
Sweetie begins to ravenously slurp up the umbilical cords
in a way you’re glad this isn’t your first time doing this
you don’t feel like you have to puke
“cheep!”
the cries of the newborns bring you back to attention
need to finish them off quickly
unsure why Sweetie doesn’t revert to motherhood the way all fluffies seem to want to do but don’t want to take the chance of asking her
perhaps constant near starvation overrides any innate Hasbio parental programming
oh well
better for her, better for you, and better for the babies you put them out of their misery
“chee-”
your makeshift weapon glides effortlessly across the neck of a yellow pegasus you pluck from the afterbirth
stuff its corpse into another pocket and reach for one of its siblings
much as you hate the smell of burning fluff, you’ll have to make a fire and cook them
over the din of Sweetie munching away at her ‘spaghetti’ you hear more foals dropping from owner-less vulvae
at least you’ll be able to eat your fill
such is life in the fluffyscape
