Tim walks to his kitchen counter, sipping his usual coffee while the storm outside raged as hard as ever. The clock on the wall reads 6:00am on the dot, and a fresh fire crackled in the fireplace. He stares intently at his laptop screen, taking note of everything that had happened to his shed dwellers while he had been going about his daily routine.
After watching over all of his compiled footage so far for what felt like the 200th time, Tim had decided to put a name to this Fluffy that was now the star of his favorite show.
“Alright, Lucky. Let’s see what you and your gaggle are getting into today!”
Sure, it was a bit cliché, but he honestly couldn’t think of any other name that seemed to fit this mare so perfectly. He cheerfully fills coffee cup, quickly throws another log into the fire, and tunes into the screen.
Lucky awakens to the sound of one of her foals peeping with fear. Somehow, it had slipped down from it’s perch atop her milkie places with it’s siblings down to the cold cement floor just outside of her nest. The sleepiness immediately leaves her body a second after the realization hits. It was her babbeh with the burn injuries! Her first reaction is to lunge forward to save her babbeh from the cold cement floor, but she forces herself to remain still at first. She looks down, quickly scooping her two other foals in her hoofies before plopping them down on a soft pile of burlap. The two foals chirp in fear as they are suddenly hoisted into the air, releasing tiny torrents of liquid shit and piss all over the arms and hooves of their mother and each other before being dropped down on a scratchy pile of not fluff.
The colt, hearing the cries of it’s sister, snaps it’s tiny head around in the direction of sound. It’s tiny little baldish body snaps around right behind him as he uses all of his energy to wiggle and squirm it’s gross little naked body over to the source of the panicked cries. He pushes and shuffles with all of his might, an unknown sense of determination fueling him as he again shits himself from the exertion of pushing his tiny underdeveloped body until-
SLAP!
A tiny trickle of blood slowly drips from the colt’s nose-
BAP!
Another tiny trickle, this time from it’s other nostril-
WAP!
This time the foal is knocked onto it’s back. Pain radiates like a beacon from his tiny little snout as he now chirps in blind panic as well. What he didn’t realize was he was actually much closer to his sister (the noise source) than he realized. So much so that the filly had ended up delivering a few painful hits to the his snout in her panic. The hurties caused the colt to tense up, but seemed to immediatly subside after once again hearing the scared chirps of it’s litter mate. He once again whips his head in the direction of her cries, his body flipping and snapping into place behind him in an almost cartoonish fashion as energy and determination fill his body. At this point, the multitude of scardie poopie torrents had made he burlap beneath them slick enough that the cult simply slips from it’s already shaky footing and lands splayed flat on it’s belly in the soggy puddle of burlap and shit.
The wind is knocked out of his tiny chest, forcing him to take a involuntary painful breath inward. Along with the air, the little colt also sucks in a mouth full of liquid milk shit, causing it to force the air right back out as the liquid seeped into it’s teeny lungs. He begins violently coughing in a desperate attempt to clear his air ways-
cough
“chir-”
hack
“chir-”
hurk
The sudden force of his last violent cough causes the colt to void his bowels of the remainder of their contents. He tiny shit flood exited the tiny colts tiny little asshole with so much force that it actually started to propel him forward a few inches, using the already dropped liquid milk shit trail as a form slip and slide. The Cold shits itself blindly forward, waving it’s squishy little hoofies in front of it in fear-
-Straight into the waving hoofies of it’s blinded sister. The shit torrent ends just before they make contact, allowing him to slide perfectly into his sister panicked waving hooves. They instantly embrace, feebly hugging each other in an attempt to calm one another during this incredibly stressful time in their short lives. The colt calms to a soft whimpering, and this in turn calms his sister down to a quiet peep.
Lucky is totally oblivious to the shenanigan behind her as the entirety of her focus is spent on saving her other foal. This foal continued to peep in fear as the cold concrete of the shed floor began nipping at the bottoms of it’s tiny hoofies and its little poopy place any time it tried sitting down. He didn’t know what the feeling of cold was. All he knew was it didn’t feel good, and he couldn’t smell… couldn’t smell…
sniffle-
Ch-ch-chirp…
"Sniff-
peep?
Sniff-sniff
CH-CHIRP CHIR-CHIRPCHIIIR-
The foals senses are suddenly flooded with a familiar and comforting scent. It immediately begins crying and flailing it’s injured body toward the direction of the comforting smell, trying it’s hardest to find it’s source to save it from not good feeling.
“Dehw-Dewh wittew buwnie babbeh, mummah hewe! Nu’ mo saddie-wawas an’ scawdie-peeps!”
A familiar, comforting sound rings out. It’s like the feeling for drinking warm milkies, but it made him feel even better. Then without warning, the foal feels itself being hoisted quickly into the air. The sudden jerking motion causes an intense feeling of nausea to well up within him before he’s consumed in a warm tight embrace. The cold’s mind is flooded with feelings and emotions that are nearly impossible to process. All of its fear and pain suddenly melt away in this warm embrace, but he can feel his tiny fluffy sphincter loosen and unleash a flood of liquid bile and shit all over Lucky’s arms, chest, belly, and milkie places.
ppppfffffftttttt-
Lucky’s gaze slowly pans downward as her tiny burnie babbeh lets out the worst smelling torrent of bad poopies she had ever experienced all over her pretty fluff. She reflexively releases her foal from her embrace, dropping him on her belly just above her milkie places as she forces herself to hold in her vomit in disgust.
The colt suddenly feels empty, then the warm comforting squeeze leaving it quickly followed by another small drop onto a squishy pile of no smell pretties with a PLOP.
The nausea builds once again in the colds tummy, stronger than ever, before he throws up his remaining stomach contents all over his mothers already soiled belly fluff. The bile burns the Colts throat and mouth, and the empty tummy feeling made him feel like he needed milkies right then and there.
CHIRP! PEEPCHIRP CHHRIIIIRP!
He cries out in anger and pain, so many things happening so quickly that his tiny little cold brain just couldn’t process everything. It scared him, made him feel angry. Most of all though, it made him feel sad and hungry.
Lucky stares down at her saturated belly fluff, then turns her gaze to her soiled injured baby now screaming peeps at her from a pile of its own liquid shit and vomit above her milkie places. Her eyes narrow and her gaze glosses over as her body kicks into auto pilot. She sighs as she sets to work giving her burned babbeh lickie-cleanies, gagging less then the last time she had to do this as she slowly became acclimated to the taste. Once he was clean once again, Lucky takes the foal’s nape in her teeth and carries him over to his equally shit-soiled siblings in their nest. Her nose wrinkles in irritation at the putrid smell of liquid baby shit now filling the inside of the mower bag that made up her nest.
In her short absence to save one child, her other two had filled her new warm soft nestie with bad poopies. That, on top of having to clean them up yet again and having to put new bedding in her nest caused a strange sensation to well up within Lucky’s little fluffy chest. For the first time since she could ever remember, Lucky felt anger. Anger at the meanie coldies making scary noises outside. Anger at her babbehs for soiling her pretty fluff and the warm nestie. Anger at her special friend for being eaten by the vroom-vroom monster and leaving her to raise the foals all on her own. Anger at herself for being in this situation.
Without a word, Lucky carelessly drops her burned babbeh on top of his two siblings with a wet fwap! sound. The three foals chirp in panic but just as quickly huddle together and begin instinctivly hugging one another for comfort, still peeping out blindly to be saved from the horrid smell and tummy hurties.
Lucky simply stares through her anger narrowed eyes and she sets to work cleaning up the trail of shit and vomit left by her babbeh from earlier. Once she finishes that, she takes a small break to lap up some frosty water from her water pot and eat some old rotten hay sitting in the opposite corner of the shed. She quickly makes good poopies and peepeeies outside in the cold wooden tunnel, then sets to work cleaning up her nest. It took about an hour in total to clean up the nest, replace the bedding with fresh piled sacks, and finally give herself a good wash. The taste of poopies, booboo juice, and bad mouthie wawas sat coldly in her mouth, causing Lucky to nearly vomit once again. Once she collect herself, she finally sets forth about the task of cleaning her dirty shit covered babbehs once again.
The first foal she grabs, her cold with the extra pointy horn, is slightly bigger than the other two. She suspects it might be the oldest, but she couldn’t be too sure since she had passed out before giving birth. Living in such a cold condition has forced the foals fluff growth into overdrive. Only two days had passed and all three had nearly grown their entire first coat of colored fuzz.
This was her black and white cold with the white tale and main. His horn had a black and white spiral design, much like a barber pole or a candy cane. Lucky made sure to have every inch of her foals clean this time, making sure there wasn’t a single trace of anything that didn’t smell pretty. She pricked her tongue a few times on his horn, but persisted in the cleaning. Once she was done, she held her squirming foal out in her outstretched hoofies to admire her work.
“Ou’ am mummahs bigges’ chiwpie babbeh. Mummah am caww ou…”
Suddenly a gust of harsh wind whistles loudly through the shed, causing the fluffy family to nearly shit themselves again in unison. Luckily, they all had already emptied themselves so this didn’t prove to be an issue.
“Mummah am caw ou’ Boomeh!”
Lucky carefully set’s her black and white unicorn, Boomer, on top of her milkie place as she carefully pries her next foal loose for cleanies. It’s her filly, gums once again aching from being forcefully unlatched from the nipple she was so greedily sucking from. Her neon green fluff and bright neon mane and tale were coming in a bit quicker, being almost totally covered in her colored fluff now.
The foal wiggles and squirms in desperation and anger, being ripped away from its dinner. She peeped and flailed her legs around, knocking her tiny head and body against Luckies hoofies as she forefully cleaned the foal.
Once she was finished, Lucky once again held out her foal in her outstretched hoofies, double checking the quality of her cleaning work. The foal continues to flail and screech in irritation, much to the dismay of her mummah now holding her. Lucky glares at her thrashing babbeh before letting out an exasperated sigh.
“Dis’ wittew fiwwy am gon’ be twoubwe… Am weawy woud wike’ mummah’s mummah… Gon caww ou’ Mewon, jus’ wike Mummah’s mummah!”
Lucky stares down at Mellon as the foal continue to thrash and squirm, demanding to be given back it’s meal. She simply sighs and once again carefully places her foal down onto her milkie place before scooping up her final babbeh in her hoofies. It was her burned babbeh who’d she’d already given lickie cleanies to.
Deciding to double down on her work, Lucky begins to give her foal a quick bath to freshen it up anyway. She made sure to be extra careful around it’s burned face and head, being sure to clean away every bit of raw dead skin and booboo juice. Once she was finished, she held out her final foal in her arms to get a good look at him.
His fluff, while not as grown in as it’s siblings, was still coming in nicely everywhere except for it’s burn spots. This foal with its red velvet and cream colored fluff had a little nubby horn and a small pare of featherless wings. An alicorn, just like his daddeh who he’d never get to meet.
The cold sat quietly in it’s mothers outstretched arms, curiously peeping as it sniffed at the air around it. Once it smelled one it’s mothers hoofies, it quickly peeped in excitement before latching it’s front legs around it. Lucky simply smiled as she watched her burnie babbeh suckle contently at her hoof as he gave it huggies.
“Mummah am gon’ pwotect ou wittew buwnie babbeh. Babbeh am wook jus’ wike speshew’ fwien. Mummah caww ou’… Sage Bwush, jus’ wike speshew’ fwien.”
Sage Brush seems to perk up at this, almost as if he knows the power of the name it has been given. He peeps in delight before going back to sucking on luckies hoofie. She smiles again and carefully places Sage Brush on her milkie place next to his big brother, Boomer. Boomer, upon hearing his brother placed beside him, detaches from his mothers nipple. Sage Brush eagerly sniffs his way over to the teat before latching on and sucking down his dinner.
Lucky stares down at her feeding foals one more time before allowing herself to wind down enough to close her eyes. Another long cold day had passed as her little family hunkers down for another night of sleep.
A notification dings on TIm’s phone, pulling him out of his screen trance as he turns his gaze to his cell. A storm warning stating that the storm would continue full force up through the following week. Tim didn’t mind though. He simply closed his laptop, rinsed his coffee cup out, and shut the iron door to seal his fireplace. He was going to be held up inside for awhile, but he had the best way to pass the time at his finger tips. Tim cuddles up under his favorite blanket, a smile glued to his face as he imagined what lay in store for him to observe the next day.
