“Hey ‘uo!”
You lifted your head. For the rest of the day you’d followed the tracks, found a spot to sleep, woke, and again followed the tracks. Out of the forest and into an open field.
“Hoo ‘uo? Dis am smawty wand!”
You’d found them, faster than you thought.
You looked to the source of the voice, a dark blue stallion in the distance. You approached, hearing the voices and chirps of the rest of his herd nearby. As you got face to face with the smarty, you could see he was a unicorn, and taller than you. His mane was red, and his eyes orange, they peered down into you.
“Hoo ‘uo!? Ansaw smawty nao!” He yelled.
“Am Dweam,” you said with a blank expression. “Fin’ hewd hoofpwints on gwounsie, fowwow hewe.”
“Weww gu ‘way, dis am smawty wand!”
“Dweam wan’ join hewd.”
The smarty’s eyes widened a bit at that.
“Hmm,” He peered to the foal resting on your back. “Wai hab babbeh? Nu am mawe.”
“Hab babbehs wit speshaw fwiend. Meanie hoomin gib speshaw fwiend foweba sweepies, babbehs too, is wastest babbeh hewe,” The memory was still fresh in your mind, and it was hard to keep a straight face as you told it. “Wan join hewd to take cawe ob babbeh.”
He kept looking at the foal, you knew exactly what he was thinking. A young stallion carrying a lone poopie babbeh, the odds weren’t stacked in your favor.
“Nu can take. Nu hab nummies fo’ ‘uo. Gu ‘way.” He started to turn away.
“Dweam can hewp hewd,” you said. “Can be nummie findah, ow tuffie fwen.”
He was walking away. “Aweady hab nummie findah an’ tuffie.”
“Dweam hab mummah an’ sistah foweba ago. Awmost gon’ foweba sweepies…”
He stopped.
“…Dweam wen faw an’ wide. Hid fwom munstahs, got nummies. Weawned a wot.”
The smarty turned back to face you.
“Dweam wiww get nummies fo’ hewd,” You told him. “Dweam wiww do watebah smawty wan. Onwy wan miwkies fo’ babbeh.”
“Mmm,” The stallion muttered. “Fowwow Smawty.”