The American Dream (Part 33) by DreamMLP

Your last babbeh clung to your back, asleep and content. You were the furthest thing from it.

You wanted to get out of the city, too many people, too many dangers. Even if more risky, the wilderness would be devoid of any would be abusers, or humans wanting payback for what you took.

The tall buildings had given way to smaller houses, then to trailers and cabins. Some separated by a mile or so of forest. Still you wanted to be even more remote.


That too. Your babbeh still needed milkies. He’d filled himself up from the mare you’d found, though you winced thinking back to that. But you needed a long-term solution. You hoped you’d find something out here.

The forest was always an intimidating place, like its own city. The creatures here couldn’t be reasoned with or begged like humans, but they were more simple than humans, easier to deceive.

You’d need to find a good nesting spot, inside a tree probably. You’d have to watch it, make sure it was abandoned by whatever had dug it. You could probably find at least one out here.

Tired, you decided to take a rest. Taking the foal off your back, you placed him on the ground. Better to let him move around a bit, practice walking too.

Your last babbeh was still small, likely on account of the lack of milkies. His coat was the color of the dirt beneath him, good for camouflage. On his head was a pointy horn, it reminded you of your daddeh.


He crawled around, possibly searching for his mummah, for milkies.

That made you think about Sparky. How she felt snuggled up against you, how happy she looked when you brought her nummies. How she told you how smart and brave you were.

Then you remembered watching, your tail pinned down as the man kicked and kicked. A tear fell from your eye. At the very least you still had one thing to remember her by, if you could keep him alive.

Why was he in the garbage?

The question popped into your mind after a minute of thinking. You’d heard his chirping, found him lightly buried in trash. It had just been disturbed, she must have put him there herself.

Was she trying to hide him from the monster? She was a good mummah, of course she would. But why didn’t she hide the other babies? Why was she letting them suckle without a care in the world while this brown one sat under trash?

You set your head down, keeping your eye on him. You kept thinking until your head hurt, but ultimately all the information pointed to the same conclusion. A conclusion you didn’t like.


Could you ever forgive Sparky? You decided that question was best left for another time.

In the meantime, you looked around aimlessly. Any dangers, any advantages, you wanted to spot them. You realized you hadn’t slept in two days, not since…

There were impressions in the ground, circular and shallow. You pulled yourself up, getting closer.

Fluffy footprints.

You looked further, there were several sets of them. They led off out of the forest.

You picked up your babbeh, putting it on your back. A herd had come through here, you estimated at least five, but that was a very rough estimation. Looking in the direction of the tracks, you took a step.

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Dream realize his mate wasnt perfect as well, she hated “munstah” and her puttin in the trash saved him from gettin killed.

Hope this herd is more better to talked with.