Author’s notes: thank y’all for the comments and likes, much appreciated. I’m much happier with this re-write, although I’ll admit that this one is going to be darker than the original. I was worried when I first started posting about being judged, but y’all are so encouraging that I feel better exploring these things. I hope y’all enjoy.
The Ballad of Stormy
Part 5
Stormy couldn’t sleep. She was plagued by nightmares, odd noises, and the biting rope at her neck. When the first rays of the sun finally broke over the horizon, Stormy let out a heavy sigh of relief. That had been the worstest night ever in her whole entire life. She hoped that Mommy and Daddy would be home soon. Her belly suddenly cramped. She needed to pee and make poopies. She shifted nervously. She still didn’t want to leave the hollow, and she wasn’t sure where exactly to make Good Poopies. There wasn’t a litterbox under the tree! The cramping in her gut prompted her to figure out a solution. She made sure her babbehs were safely on her back, and then she anxiously made her way out of the hollow and around the tree. She dug a small hole and did her business, shaking with relief. The sun slowly began to rise, and Stormy took a moment to close her eyes in relief as it warmed her. Her babbehs weren’t nearly large enough for a fluffpile yet, and so she had shivered the whole night. She began to chew the grass and was grateful at the dew, as it slated her thirst a tiny bit. She made milkies and fed her babbehs- her grey Bestest Babbeh first, and then whichever ones she grabbed next. She gave the ones that weren’t nursing a small bath. For a moment, Stormy was actually content. Then the rope snagged a bit of her fluff around her neck and tugged it free. She winced.
She had spent the day in that small cycle- eating, pooping, feeding her babbehs… and she kept an eye out always for Mommy and Daddeh. Surely they’d be back soon, right? Stormy retreated to the hollow reluctantly as the sun hit its peak. Where it had been pleasantly warm before, now it was far too hot and made her thirsty, and the dew had long since dissapated. She had already sipped the small amount that had collected in the divot. She eventually dozed off, exhausted. While she was asleep, up on the highway above the embankment, a car full of teens on their last joy ride of the summer blazed past. One of the boys, slightly car sick, threw his container of Chinese Takeout out the window, along with his empty drink. It rolled down the embankment and a little ways from where Stormy was sleeping. Behind them, a cop turned on his lights and sirens, pulling off the shoulder to pull them over for speeding and littering.
The sirens startled Stormy awake. She looked around- had Mommy come back? But there was no sign of Mommy. A delicious smell suddenly reached her nose. Stormy sniffed the air, following the smell to the discarded takeout. The container had been knocked open, and the cup lay on its side, lid slightly ajar, ice glittering and melting in the sun. Mommy must have left these nummies for her! She did love her! She did care! Stormy understood now- she just had to figure out why she was a Bad Fluffy, and then Mommy and Daddy would save her from the sorry-tree. She reached forward to get a bite of the tasty nummies, but the rope choked her. “AGK! Stoopit wope!” Stormy sat down and pouted. She could hear her babbehs in the hollow, chirping for milkies. She wanted these nummies, not the grassy nummies! Slowly, she stood and turned around, backing up until her back leg bumped against the container. she carefully placed her hoofpad against it, dragging it forward little by little. Finally, she had brought it close enough, and she turned and ate with gusto, tearing into the chow mein. “Tastee skettis! Fank yu, Mommy!” Once she was done, she spotted the cup with the ice. She leaned forward, gagging, but managed to grab the lip of the cup in her teeth. She brought it back and lapped at the small puddle of melted water inside. She giggled at the ice as it rattled around her tongue. “Funny cowdies!” She picked the cup up and brought it to the tree, placing it into the divot. Finally satisfied, she returned to the hollow, hugging her babbehs to comfort them from her long absence and set to feeding them again. The sun dipped lower and lower, but Stormy, sated and reassured that her Mommy was taking care of her when she wasn’t looking, fell asleep.
Stormy had managed to get a few hours of sleep when her bladder woke her again. She placed her babbehs on her back, nervously looking out into the darkness. She didn’t want to go poopie in the dark, but she didn’t think she could wait until the sun came back. She didn’t want to sleep next to her poopies, either. Her stomach cramped, prompting her to make a decision. “Howd on, babbehs! Mummah needs tu make Gud Poopies.” She shuffled hurriedly around the tree, squatting and relieving herself. She sighed, but then a stick snapped in the trees and Stormy bolted, scared. Stormy didn’t notice as one of her white unicorn babbehs fell from her back and into the grass with a soft plop. She ran as fast as she could around the tree, diving into the nest, terrified. She panted and shivered until the adrenaline waned, and she fell asleep.
The tiny white unicorn filly shivered and peeped as loud as she could. Where was mummah? She had been safe and warm in mummah’s fluff, and suddenly she was in this cold, wet fluff! She shivered harder and chirped. Maybe mummah had gone to get nummies to make milkies again? She began to feel around her, trying to find her brothers and sister so she could at least be warm in the fluffpile. There was a sudden movement by her back leggies, and she let out a happy chirp. Mummah was back! Except… this didn’t’ feel like mummah? Whatever this was was smooth and cool to the touch. She wiggled and peeped as it wrapped itself around her slowly. Was it trying to hug her to help her warm up? What a nice new friend! She wrapped her tiny front leggies around a coil of it and hugged it back with a tiny squeeze of her own. Suddenly, her friend hugged her even tighter, and she found the next breath harder to draw. She tried to let her new friend know that they were hugging her too hard, but it didn’t seem to understand. It hugged her harder and harder, and she began to cough and wheeze. “Pe-ep! Caff! Ch-chirp!” Her voice, desperate and scared, was barely audible above the gentle night breeze. Before long, the little filly could do nothing but pant and flail her useless little legs. “Haf…haf…” she voided her bowels, and something began to cover her head- she batted at it with her hoofsies weakly, but it covered her and soon what little air she was getting was gone. She succumbed to the dark.
The cornsnake, sated, slithered away.
The Ballad of Stormy
Part 6
Stormy woke to the usual peeping and chirping of her babbehs, letting her know it was time for milkies. She stretched her stiff joints and scratched at the rope around her neck. She sighed and began tending to her babbehs- at least they gave her heart happies! She started with her bestest babbeh, the one that looked like her. She carefully licked him clean, until his steel grey and white dappled fur gleamed in the early morning sunshine. She gave him a kiss on the nosie. “Yu am Bestest Babbeh, su yu hav fiwstest miwkies!” and she placed him on a teat. She picked up his brother next- the little white colt. She licked him clean and placed him on her other teat, where he began to hungrily drink his fill. Next were her two pointy babbehs! She picked up the first one she saw. She loved her little pointy babbehs. They looked just like her special friend Snowball! She missed him very much and forgave him for giving Sunshine special huggies too. She knew that if she could find him, he would know what to do. He was so smart! She placed the little filly on the teat her bestest babbeh had vacated, and looked around for her lastest babbeh. Where was she? Stormy clapped her hoofsies to her mouth in a happy gasp- had she become a ‘splorin babbeh over night? The thought filled her heart with glee- of course she had! She had the bestest, smartest babbehs ever! She waited until the filly had had her fill, and then placed all of them on her back.
She scratched again at the rope- it had begun to pull away the fur, leaving a patch of skin that was bald and defenseless against the harsh fibers. She bolstered herself- she needed to find her ‘splorin babbeh and give her milkies! She knew that even a ‘splorin babbeh wouldn’t have gotten very far. She walked around the tree, calling for her babbeh. “Pointy babbeh! Wittwe pointy babbeh! Whewe awe yu? It am miwkie times!” There was no answer, and no sign of the little unicorn. Corncerned but not yet panicked, Stormy made another lap around the tree, starting at the outside and circling in. Where was she? Stormy even looked in the poopies pile, just in case she had fallen in while doing good poopies? But she wasn’t there, either. Panic set in fully. Stormy knew she had four babbehs. She had licked them, and hugged them, and fed them, and loved them. She began to run around the tree, the rope gagging her and choking her when she ran out of slack. At last, exhausted, she sat down and covered her face with her hoofsies. “Huuu! Huu huu! Stowmy nu can find pointy babbeh, Stowmy am bad mummah!” She choked a little as she cried- she had worn her throat out with yelling for her babbeh, and crying, and thirst. She wandred back to the tree, looking hopefully in the bottom of the fast food cup. The morning dew had collected there during the night- only a few sips, not enough to slake her thirst, but enough that it kept her mouth from being so horribly dry. She had been looking for her other pointy babbeh for some time, and the sun had risen to its peak. Her remaining babbehs started wriggling and chirping as hunger settled in. She carefully rolled over onto her side, allowing her babbehs to crawl over her fluff to her teats. The little white earthie latched on to the nipple before her bestest babbeh could latch on. Stormy booped him on the nose, causing him to detach with a pop and a startled peep.
“Nu! Bad babbeh! Bestest babbeh gets to dwink miwkies fiwst!” the little colt hiccuped and rubbed his little nose. She picked him up and hugged him. “Thewe thewe, mummah wuv yu. But babbeh has tu be gud babbeh and wet bestest babbeh dwink fiwsties.” She hugged the little colt until her bestest babbeh was finished, and then she let him drink. She began to think about names. Mommy hadn’t come back yet, and they hadn’t named her babbehs before tying her to the sorry-tree. She gently stroked the fur of her bestest babbeh, who sucked on one of his forehoofs. “Yu namesie am… Cwoudy.” Cloudy wiggled happily as his name took. Stormy stroked her remaining pointy babbeh, who was happily nursing. She thought about how much she looked like her special friend. “Yu namesie am Snowfwake!” Snowflake wiggled happily and let out a tiny burp. Snowflake picked up the white colt- he detached with a pop from the teat- he wasn’t finished eating yet and so he peeped in discomfort and distress- and earned another nose bop. He whimpered. “Shush, wittwe babbeh. Yu namesie am Twoubwe.” Trouble wiggled, but mostly from pain than from the joy of having a name. She set him down again, and he desperately latched onto the teat- he was still hungry.
With the babbehs drinking from her every few hours, Stormy quickly became more and more dehydrated. With only the few sips of dew each morning, it wasn’t nearly enough to slake her thirst. Beyond the reach of the rope, there ran a gentle stream full of fresh, clean water. She sighed, and resigned herself to chewing on the tallest grasses that still had a little liquid in them. They tasted terrible. She suddenly sat down with a plop and began to cry again. This was all too hard! She didn’t understand why she was a bad fluffy! She had never made bad poopsies until the very end, she had never demanded toys or skettis… She hugged her babbehs for comfort. Her three remaining babbehs. She wept bitterly at the loss of the fourth. She counted them again, to reassure herself- one, two, three- and then she noticed that Snowflake had opened her eyes. Her eyes were the same sky blue as Stormy’s. She gasped, filled with pride. “Hewwo babbeh! Hewwo!” Snowflake, her eyes finally open, took in her mummah for the first time. Her beautiful grey fur and white dappling (filthy and covered in mud), her long white mane (matted, grimy). She put her tiny arms up for a hug, and Snowflake obliged, hugging her close to her chest. Stormy was so proud and happy!
She eagerly watched the rest of her babbehs with Snowflake. Cloudy, her bestest babbeh, opened his eyes next. He had beautiful green eyes, like Snowball, and she immediately began to praise him, picking him up. (Snowflake was dropped casually, peeping in surprise as she bounced safely onto the soft grass.) She gave Cloudy kisses all over his precious little face, and he giggled. “Hewwo, bestest babbeh! Mummah am suuuuu pwoud of yu!” She carefully placed him on a teat to feed. She looked to Trouble, who was indeed opening his eyes. They were a rich, deep cocoa brown. He looked up at his mummah with wide-eyed admiration. This pretty mare was his mummah? He had such heart happies! Unlike his siblings, he noticed the rope digging into his mummah’s neck, and the dried boo boo juice there. Instead of fear, however, his tiny heart filled with concern and compassion. When mummah picked him up, he hugged her with all his might, trying his hardest to fix her hurties. “Yu hav poopy see-pwaces, but… mummah wuv yu anyway.” She gave him a little hug, and Trouble sighed happily. He loved his mummah so much.
The Ballad of Stormy
Part 7
The days passed by slowly as the family began to form a routine. Rain came during one of the days, providing much needed water. Stormy slowly ate her way through the grass nummies, a circle of barren dirt slowly expanding around the little burrow beneath the sorry-tree. Stormy taught her babbehs to make Good Poopies in the poopie place on the other side of the tree, and how to say please and thank you, and not to demand skettis or toys. She taught them not to give sorry-hoofsies unless absolutely necessary, and how to be nice, loving fluffies for when Mommy came back. She told them about the FluffMart, and her saferoom. She told them about playing dress up, and her nightlight and TV, and her toys. Her babbehs sat with eyes wide, innocent little facts filled with wonder. Trouble asked excitedly, “How time tiww safewoom, mummah?” and Stormy burst into tears. She didn’t know how long it was until Mommy was going to come back! It had been so many forevers that sometimes Stormy wondered if they really were coming back. But then, why had they left the nummies and the cup for her? They were just teaching her a lesson- she didn’t understand yet, but when she did, Mommy would come back and bring her and her babbehs home and they’d all be happy and safe. She was knocked from her thoughts by Trouble hugging her hard around her leggy, apologizing profusely. “Twoubwe sowwy! Nu mean giv heawt huwties!” His face was filled with love and guilt. It took her a moment to hug him back. She loved all her babbehs.
Her babbehs had gotten much bigger- their fur soft and thick, their bellies always full despite their circumstances. Stormy was doing the best she could with what she had. When she wasn’t taking care of her babbehs, Stormy often sat and thought very hard about why she was under the sorry-tree. It had been many forevers since daddeh tied her to the tree, but she still believed that if she could just figure out why she was a Bad Fluffy, Mommy would come and take her home. She thought so hard that her thinky-places hurt and her eyes would start going cross-eyed, and then she would have to stop. She was taking a break after one such session, watching her babbehs play with loving eyes. Her babbehs were all so smart!
Trouble tried very hard not to live up to his name- he spent a lot of his own time thinking up ways to make things easier for his mummah. He was still much too little to do much- unlike his brother Cloudy, who had gotten most of the milk and thus had grown very large and strong, Trouble was skinny, scrawny, but with a flicker of intelligence in his dark eyes that fluffies very rarely have. It had been him who had come up with the idea to take the cup down to the stream and fill it, bringing back life-saving water to his mummah. He kept an eye on his rambunctious sister Snowflake when mummah was sleeping, and he had gotten Cloudy to help him dig a trench that caused poopies and peepees to roll down away from the sorry-tree. He even, when mummah wasn’t looking, went to the shady parts under the other trees and pulled up the thick, tall grass down and brought it back to the tree, just so his mummah wouldn’t have to work so hard to eat. He wanted so badly to make his mummah happy.
Cloudy was big, dumb, and filled with love. He had gotten the lion’s share of the milk, and had grown into a big, strong colt. However, unlike Trouble, he was dumb even for a fluffy. He was happy to follow what his brother told him to do, and to help his mummah, and to run and play with Snowflake. He didn’t often understand what was going on, but he was happy, and that was what mattered. A part of him did rankle and writhe sometimes, when Mummah would give Trouble sorry-hoofsies. And he often found himself watching his smaller brother with a sense of odd sadness. He tried to hug Trouble extra to help make it better.
Snowflake loved her mummah. She loved her brothers, and she loved the green grassies (although there was less and less grassies under the sorry tree. Mummah insisted that they all stay inside the reach of the sorry-rope, and unlike Trouble, she actually kept an eye on Snowflake.) and she loved the warm sunshine on her pretty white fur. The sunlight caused pretty shiny flickers across her fur. She was also proud of her horn, and her thick white mane. Mummah told her a lot about the “safewoom” and “fwuffmawt”, but Snowflake couldn’t really concieve of such luxury. She was happy with what she had, even if she did often long to go to the shady green places under the other trees. She wanted to follow her brothers down to the stream to refill the cup, but once she had fallen in and nearly drowned, and so Mummah said she couldn’t go any more. (Trouble had saved her- he had grabbed a long stick, and with Cloudy’s muscle, had managed to pull her to the bank where she had made sick-wawas and Cloudy and Trouble hugged her until she stopped shivering and felt good enough to go back to the tree.)
In their own way, their little family was happy, if humble.
Night fell, and they began their routine. They snuggled all together in one happy fluff-pile, their burrow protecting them from the wind. (Trouble and Cloudy had dug further beneath the tree, to where it was warmer and safer between the roots.) Stormy snored, the rope tight against her windpipe. It had completely rubbed away the fur around her neck, and thanks to the unnatural healing factor of fluffies, was now beginning to scar and scab over it, embedding the rope further and further into her neck. It hurt her a lot, a dull ache with sharp pains when she would move too far, and it made her grumpy and sleepy. She was laying with her chin across Snowflake’s back- both to provide a support for her head and to keep Snowflake from wandering while she was asleep. Snowflake was wide awake. Mummah’s snoring had woken her again for the third time that night, and thus she decided to go ‘splorin. Mummah had once told her about her sister, and how she had been a ‘splorin babbeh before the rest of them had even opened their eyes, but had gone on and adventure and gotten lost. Mummah had said something after that, something about danger and staying inside the sorry-rope circle, but Snowflake had been too busy excitedly thinking about her sister. If she had gone on an adventure, that meant she was outside the circle and that meant that Snowflake could find her! She tried to wiggle out from under mummah’s chin, but it was no good. Frustrated, she thought about how to get out- and then quietly giggled at her own brilliance. “Pssst! Twoubwe!”
Trouble stirred and opened his brown eyes groggily. “Wha?” Snowflake carefully arranged her face in a worried expression. “Nee make gud poopies, but mummah am usin Snowfwake as piwwow! Pwease hewp?” Trouble thought for a moment, and then left where he was on the outside of the fluffpile- (Mummah didn’t actually tell him he couldn’t snuggle with her and Snowflake and Cloudy, but he had learned that it was easier to avoid sorry-hoofsies if he slept on the outside of the pile.) - and slowly wiggled his way under mummah’s chin and beside Snowflake. Stormy took in a deep breath- even though Trouble was smaller than Cloudy, he was still slightly bigger than Snowflake, and thus gave Stormy more slack on the rope to breathe- and fell into a deeper, more restful sleep. Snowflake wiggled free, turning to give Trouble a kissie on his nose. “Fank yu! Snowfwake wiww be wite backsies!” Trouble nodded, trying to stay awake. He had to watch to make sure that Snowflake didn’t leave the circle- but he was properly warm for once, and with Mummah’s chin on his back, he could maybe play pretend like she had asked for him to be her pillow, and so he fell asleep.
So she wouldn’t feel bad for lying, Snowflake really did go and make good poopies, and then she walked right to the very edge of the rope circle. She hesitated, shivering both from the night air and from excitement. Was she really going to do this? All at once, with a great leap, she launched out of the circle of stunted, chewed grass and onto the lush green grass outside the circle. She stopped and looked back, barely a foot outside the circle, but it was the farthest she had ever been by herself! She barely kept from squealing with excitement and glee. She was doing it! She was gonna go ‘splorin on an adventure, and she would find her sister and bring her back, and then mummah could give her a namesie and they’d all be SO PROUD and SO HAPPY! The little white unicorn dashed off into the night, in no particular direction. She looked like a little cloud floating away across the embankment, and before long, she was gone.
The Ballad of Stormy Part 8
The sun felt nice on Stormy’s fur. She woke slowly, not bothering to open her eyes for a little while. She was so comfortable. For some reason, her neck wasn’t giving her as many hurties, and she felt like she’d finally gotten the first good night’s sleep since she had her babbehs. She wanted to enjoy it for a little while. She could feel Cloudy’s familiar bulk under her arm, and Snowflake was safely under her chin. She couldn’t feel Trouble, but wasn’t worried. He was just making good poopies or something. It wasn’t that she meant to drive him away- he was just so clingy and he annoyed her with his poopie-colored eyes and his constant questions that she would get mad and give him sorry-hoofsies. Her bladder stirred, and she groaned. It was time to get up, even if she didn’t want to. She stood and stretched, and opened her eyes. What a beautiful day! She looked down. Trouble was stirring from where he had been under her chin. Cloudly slept on as usual. Snowflake was gone. Immediately, panic ripped through her- it was like her other babbeh all over again! She let out a terrified SCREEEEEE and began to tear around the tree, looking for her sweet little Snowflake. Trouble and Cloudy, startled awake, had made scaredy poopies in the burrow and hugged each other, frightened. “SNOWFWAKE! SNOWFWAKE! WHEWE AM YU???” She ran around and around and around, crying and screaming and shitting in distress, until the rope ran taught and she choked, and then she turned and ran the other way. Her little filly was gone! She had been under her chin when they had gone sleepies, and then-
Snowflake froze, rope taut at the edge of the circle. She turned and calmly trotted back to the burrow. Inside, Trouble and Cloudy sat, clinging to each other, covered in poopies. “Huuhuu!” Trouble noticed that she was back first, and he turned and reached for her for comfort. “HUUUU! Biggest scawdies! Pwease hug-” Stormy calmly brought her hoof down full-force on Trouble’s back leg, pulping it. Trouble shrieked horribly and writhed, unable to move away as he was bound in agony even as Stormy raised her hoof to stomp again- but then Cloudy was suddenly standing over him, blocking her hoof. “NU HUWTIES TWOUBWE! NU HUWTIES!” Stormy blinked. She took in what she had done- her bestest babbeh was standing over his brother, trembling but in full fighting pose, his cheeks puffed up, his chest puffed out, his hackles raised- and Trouble’s back leg was obliterated. He stopped screaming as his voice gave out, letting out hoarse wracking sobs from betrayal and pain. “Oh! Oh! Mummah su sowwy, Twoubwe! Mummah nu mean tu-” Cloudy jumped up, headbutting her brutally in the chin as hard as he could. Stormy fell back as her teeth painfully clacked together and she nearly bit her tongue, gagging as the rope choked her. Before she could regain her feet, Cloudy wiggled under Trouble and ran, ran away from his mummah and the sorry-tree. He stopped a little ways outside the circle and turned- his side and back was sticky with boo-boo juice from Trouble’s leg, but Trouble was still crying, and that meant he was alive. Stormy struggled to her hoofsies, wheezing. “W-caff! Haf! Haf! W-wait, bestest babbeh! Nu gu outside ciwcwe! Stay neaw sowwy-twee wif mummah! It dangewous out dewe!”
Cloudy puffed up his cheeks and blew a raspberry at her. “Munstah mummah! Bad mummah! Huwties bwuddah! Twoubwe onwy evew nicesies tu yu! Hatechu!” He turned and ran, unknowingly following his errant sister along the embankment. Behind them, Stormy sat down heavily on her haunches at the edge of the circle and wailed. Her babbehs didn’t love her any more! She was a BAD MUMMAH! She had HURT HER BABBEH! It was no wonder she was tied to the sorry-tree! Mommy and Daddeh must have known that she was a bad mummah and were trying to teach her a lesson! Oh, she was so so sorry! She was more sorry than anything she had ever done before, and she had the biggest heart hurties! She was the worstest and baddest mummah ever! Unable to do anything else, Stormy cried and cried and cried until she was all dried up. She got shakily to her hoofsies and went to the drinking cup. She stared into it. At the bottom was the tiniest puddle of water. Today was the day that Cloudy and Trouble were going to go fill it up again. She watched her babbehs disappear over the embankment.
They had left a sticky trail of blood behind them, and her own hoof was smeared in the gore that had been Trouble’s poor little leggy. She felt terrible . Not only because she had lapped up the last two sips of her water, but because she was consumed with guilt. Why had she done it? She didn’t hate Trouble- she loved him! Right? She loved all her babbehs! Sure, she loved Cloudy the bestest, but that was alright, wasn’t it? No answers came to her. She stared at the last place she had seen her babbehs, though they had long since disappeared. Her neck itched. The rope was embedded deeply into her neck, the skin around it inflamed, red, and shiny. She was hungry, but didn’t feel much like eating. She had done the worstest, baddest thing ever. Not only was she a Bad Mummah, she was a Bad Fluffy. It was no wonder her mommy and daddeh had left her. She had lied, she had done bad poopies, she had hurt her babbehs… She was a worthless no good bad fluffy and she hated herself. She was still scared of dying. Some part of her, deep inside held out hope that now that she had realized she was a Bad Fluffy that Mommy would be coming out of the trees soon to hug her and take her home now that she had learned her lesson. The day drew on, and the heat of the day beat down on her. Eventually, she had to retreat to the burrow. She didn’t want to go in. It stank of scardey-poopies and the hot shiny stench of boo-boo juice made her feel sick. But it was cooler here. She lay down, too depressed even to clean up her nestie. What was the point? She didn’t deserve a nice nestie. She never did, she realized. She huuhuu’d softly, covering her face with her hoofsies.
Trouble held onto Cloudy, sniffling. He had to think, had to concentrate through the pain. He had to figure out nummies and water and nesties for Cloudy, and he had to find Snowflake. He looked back over his shoulder, but the sorry-tree was a good ways in the distance now and his mummah not even a grey speck beneath it. His vision swam in pain and he tried not to make sick wawas on Cloudy’s back. Cloudy was following the road as best as he could- he wasn’t sure where to go, but he knew he had to get Trouble away from mummah. He missed her, of course. He loved her. She had always given him the bestest milkies and huggies and kissies, and had always told him how strong and handsome he was. But Trouble had been the one to keep them alive when mummah couldn’t. He wasn’t very bright even by fluffy standards, but he knew his brother was the reason they had all survived for as long as they had. He would return the favor now, and protect his brother no matter what. In the distance was the beginning of suburbs. He began to walk faster.
Blackberry, a dark purple unicorn with a green mane, was horny. He’d been given sorry-hoofsies from his herd’s smarty for trying to enf the mares in the herd. “It am tu cwose tu cowd times fow babbehs.”- and now not only was he horny, he was angry and his pride was hurt. He walked along the little stream that lead into the small woods where his herd lived. He was grumbling to himself, comforting himself with fantasies of giving the herd smarty forever sleepies when he smelled it-her- a MARE. His head shot up and he sniffed the air. He took off over the grass in the direction of the smell- he was gonna have enfies, and he wouldn’t even get sorry-hoofsies for it!
Stormy looked up hopefully when she heard hoofsteps- her babbehs had come back! They’d forgiven her, and they were back, and she would give Trouble the bestest huggies and kissies and tell him how sorry she was- her thoughts ground to a stop as she saw the stallion. “H-hewwo. Fwuffy am Stowmy- what am yu namesie?” Blackberry sniffed her, his no-no stick already hard. “Fwuffy am Bwackbewwy. Bwackbewwy giv Stowmy bestest enfies!” Stormy was confused- what were enfies?- and like Snowball before him, Blackberry tore around behind her and mounted her before she could stop him. Stormy flailed- she didn’t want special huggies! “Nu giv speciaw huggies! Awweady hav speciaw fwiend and babbehs!” Blackberry paid her no mind. He was running on sheer instinct, and thanks to the rope that made the tree her prison, she was much easier to mount than any of the mares in his herd, even with her frenzied flailing. She was soft and unused to fighting, and Blackberry was a feral stallion, hard with two years of survival. After a few thrusts, he penetrated her, and unlike Snowball, Stormy definitely noticed that he was inside of her. Pain bloomed through her nono places as the much bigger stallion used her for his own pleasure. She tried to get away, to crawl away from him, but he grabbed onto the rope in his teeth to keep her still, and all she could do was wait. After some forevers, Blackberry slammed into her a final time, exclaiming “GOOD FEEWS” and knocking her up in one swift moment. Stormy sobbed, covering her eyes with her hoofsies. Blackberry pulled out her her, sighed happily, and wandered off. He’d tell the rest of his friends about this mare! The herd smarty had said no enfies with the herd mares, but this mare wasn’t part of the herd! Blackberry felt sneaky and glad.
Stormy heaved up sob after sob from the very depths of herself, all while the warm and instinctual knowledge that she was pregnant washed over her. “Nuuuu, nuuuuu!” whimpered Stormy. She was already a bad monster mummah, she didn’t want to have any more babbehs! She just wanted her old babbehs back so she could tell them she was sorry, and that she loved them. Instead, she sniffled and began to eat the scraggly grass in front of her burrow. She had tummy babbehs to feed.