The Crucible of Freedom (by WumpsofSteel)

The Crucible of Freedom
Part 1

In a hidden corner of a quiet meadow, a young fluffy pony lay. The young stallion’s name was Rock, and his life was about to change forever.

It is dark and peaceful, Rock and the sub-herd to which he belonged having long since bedded down for the night.

Rock was happy. He had the prettiest special friend in the whole world!! And as if that wasn’t just the greatest thing ever, she was a soon-mummah too!! Rock just knew that she was going to have the bestest babbehs ever!!

At the moment, Rock was having the funnest dream!! He, his special friend, and their babbehs are all running around the pretty grass. There were no monsters anywhere and all the fluffies were happy and safe.

But wait? What’s that? Owies! Something is giving Rock pokee owies.

“Wock, awake up, Wock. Nee awake nao.”

“Wha? Who? Why powke Wock?”

“Sssh, no make woud ow wiww awake meanie smawtie’s tuffies. Wock gu an awake speciaw fwiend. We gon’ weave soon.”

Rock nodded and began gently poking his special friend.

“Speciaw Fwiend,” Rock whispered. “Nee awake nao speciaw fwiend. Hewd gwoup am weavin’ nao.”

“Nu powke Wiwey (Riley for all none fluffies) am mummah soon. Powkies nu am gud fow babbehs.” The dam mumbled, still half asleep.

“Wha Wock wan? Still dawkie time, why nu sweepies?” Riley asked as Rock continued to poke her with his hoof.

“It am time tu weave nao speciaw fwiend.” Rock whispered “Time tu wun way fwom meanie smawty.”

“Otay, Wiwey wuv Wock, knu dat Wock wiww mawke soon mummah an’ tummeh babbehs safe.” she said giving Rock a reassuring nuzzle.

“Wock wuv Wiwey an’ tummeh babbehs tu.” Rock replied softly. “But ssssh nao, nu am time fow tawkies, am time for sneakies.”

Over the next few moments these events were replicated a dozen or so times as various other fluffy families were silently rousted from their slumber.

Soon, everyone was awake and creeping slowly and carefully away into the darkness.

“C’mon everyfwuffy dis way, fowwow Wobert an’ Jeffy.” the young grey tuffie at the head of the group whispered. “Nu hab tu wowwy nu mowe. Fwuffies gon be happy, nu mowe wowwy ‘bout dummeh poopie smawty steawin’ wittew chirpeh babbehs an’ speciaw fwiends fo’ enfies.”

The group’s progress was slow, but steady. The fluffies marched on without complaint for what seemed like an eternity until finally they stopped to rest in a small clearing.

As the mares satisfied their hunger with the various plant life, the stallions gathered a short distance away to discuss tactics. At least as best as fluffies could anyway.

“Wat nao Wobert?” one of the stallions asked. “Fwuffies get dis faw, but wat gon’ do when Smawty come wookin fow gwoup?”

“Fwuffies nu can do dis awone.” Robert said. “We no am match fow Smawty an Smawty tuffies. Fwuffies gon nee’ wots of fwiends tu hewp an tu gib biggest bestest tuffie fwiends fo’ da awmy.”

“So whewe dese gud tuffies gon come fwom? Am Wobert gon puww dem out of poopie pwace?” another stallion asked mockingly.

“Nu, but Wobert am gon wip you a nyu poopie pwace if ou nu stop bein stoopi.” Robert snapped. “Nao everyfwuffy ssshh. Gwoup weader hab someting tu say.”

All eyes turned toward the rugged dull blue stallion with an equally dull mane. This was Jeff, the leader of this sub-herd or “gwoup weader” as the fluffies called it.

In his prime Jeff had been a magnificant site. His bright and shiny blue and red coloration drew envy from all the other stallions. But many hard fought battles and difficult decisions had taken its toll on Jeff.

However, what he lost in beauty he regained tenfold in the respect and loyalty of all fluffies who came to know him.

The old soldier looked out at his stallions, taking care to make eye contact with each of them. With a determined but reassuring tone, he began to speak…

“Jeff knu dat fwuffies am owtnumbewed. But Jeff also knu dat dewe awe wots of odda fwuffies dat nu wike, eben hate smawty. Dey can be fwee tu. We haf tu convince dem tu fight fo’ dewe fweedom.”

“But Smawty hewd am biggest an meaniest hewe evah!!” another stallion protested. “Smawty hab so many fwuffies!! How we gon’ win?”

“Jeff nu sure. But Jeff do knu dat we must win.” the wise leader replied. “But Cheew up!! Fow as wong as da wight (right) am stwong an’ sky-daddy has powah, we wiww WISE UP FWEE!!!”


They’re already dead.