You’re a good baby, and just now you’ve opened your eyes for the first time.
“Wub mummah” the words come to you naturally as you look for the first time at the mare that has been giving you a tongue bath.
“Mummah wub talkie babbie!” She says happily as she smiles warmly at you, before looking to her left “Speshal fween, bwack babbie am tawkie babbie wook” she says as she twists to the side to show you to your father, he looks at you with a warm smile.
“Weawwy? Daddeh bestest babbie and tawkies?” Says the black stalion expectantly.
“Wub daddie, wan huggie!” And hugs you get.
As the rest of the day goes by, your siblings all start opening their eyes, you play all day in the blue nest, your mother occasionally eats at the wall, “siwwy mummah, nestie am not nummies”
You say puzzle by her behavior.
Your mother looks at you and says “bwu waww an bwu nummies, mummah num bwu nummies and make miwkies fo babbies, babbies num bwu waww nummies when mummah nu hab mow milkies.”
You don’t like that, it is infuriating, and you make it known “Buh babbies nee miwkies to gwow big and strowng!” You say outraged “nu wan num dummy bwu waww”
Your mother picks you up and soothes you, with a mummah song, reassuring you that you’ll drink all the milk you want.
Later, as the light starts to dim, your parents put you and your siblings in a pile, and sing you to sleep before doing so too.
Your are all oblivious to the panel of glass above you that has been removed, to the short spray of anesthetic gas, and to the hand that scoops you out from the fluffy pile while you are all in chemically deepened sleep.
_
You are Thomas Twain, your trade is in microfluffies, both making habitats and breeding, you’re one of the best in the trade, your habitats are the high quality and well crafted stuff, your fluffies well behaved, healthy and smart.
You’re working on your newest project, the biggest yet, one that will earn you the most yet, not due to scale, you’ve done bigger, but because of the details.
You finish securing the glass panel to the top of the habitat, two cubes of gelatine encased pasta deposited in front of the fluffy parents to help them forget the missing foal.
The last of the four black furred, white maned micro fluffies needed to fulfill the order, and what an ordeal it was, this was the first time you ever had to do multiple generations of breeding, to say nothing of the client not wanting the fluffies to ever have had contact with humans.
It was not the oddest request, but it was the most time consuming and the one which required the most involvement and care.
A very wide three meter long, one and a half meter tall, microfluffy nutrigel habitat, one side made of one way smoked glass that would not allow the micros to see the outside world, while the other side was a special frosted glass that would allow the gentle uv lights to shine artificial sunlight on the fluffies without burning the critters eyes.
The one way glass wall was composed of three 0.5mx0.5m squares of glass, secured by ceramic slots with rubber sealing, that could be removed individually for easy of cleaning, refilling or taking out one of it’s inhabitants once it is dead.
That had been the easy part, and it’s already set up on the client’s soundproofed basement room, a camera pointing at it, waiting only for the next part of the order, so it could stream directly to screens mounted in the client’s office and in his home office.
Small, suction cup mounted microphones attached to the frosted side would pick up and transmit the noises and words of the fluffies inside, allowing the client to listen to them should he wish to.
And now, the trickiest and hardest part was nearly done:
Four foals, two male and two female, all black fluffed and white maned, none of them from the same parent or grandparents, it was not really the recipe for a stable population anyway, but it would slow down inbreeding if only by a little.
None of the foals, was to have seen or interacted with a human, and the client asked for the parents not to have done so preferably, to reduce chances of them talking to the foals about people, this would be hard, especially due to the color requirements, and so, you selected and paired up fluffies by colors, and prayed it wouldn’t take long.
Thankfully, luck, the short pregnancy and quick maturation of microfluffies make this take way less time than both you and your clients most optimistic predictions.
Now all you had to do is take the foals to the client before they woke up, not that it would be a problem, as his mansion was just a two hour drive away, and thankfully to the weird metabolism of the fluffies, and the diluted sleeping gas, there should be no problem.
_
You’re a good baby, you’ve just woke up, but as you look around, you’re not in your nest, around you are not your siblings, but three unknown babies with the same colors as you, the ground that used to be a made of your parents fluff is now just the same as the blue wall that surrounded the nest, the lack of your parents smell fills you with discomfort, the ceiling appears to be so high you get nauseous, it fills you with even more panic. “chirp chirp chirp MUMMAH! DADDEH! WHEWE chirp chirp chirp HUUUUUUUU MUMMAH NU LEABE BABBIE, BABBIE NEE HUGS AND WUB!”
Your chirping and screaming wakes up other babies, who in panic all start crying and calling for their parents too, until one of you starts to complain about another thing entirely:
“chirp chirp wostest tummie ouchies, nee miwkies” one of the fillies start, at once you notice that you too are hungry.
You remember what your mother said before, that you should eat the blue wall if there was no milk, and the floor has the same look and smells the same.
“Huuu, mummah teww bwu waww an nummies” You tell the other foals before trying to get some of the floor into your toothless muzzle. blue nummies am soft like mummah milkie-places, but nuh taste pretty you think to yourself, as your stomach is filled and stops hurting. You notice the others have started doing the same.
Calm now, the four of you gather together and embrace each other without even asking if you’re friends, your harrowing experience and tribulation has forged an unbreakable bond.
“Whewe am babbehs? Why meanie mummah and daddeh weabe?” As the other boy fluffy.
“Babbie nuh noh, huuu, wan mummah, and good bwothas an sissies, nuh wan samesies-wookin babbies.” One of the fillies says, the other boy foal starts describing his own family, and this leads to a lengthy discussion about the colors of your parents and siblings, and which one had the prettiest family, your sadness and abandonment forgotten for a little while.
_
In the client’s home office:
“Incredible, they already figured out the nutrigel is edible, should they have done it so quickly? Is it safe?” Your client, dr. Martin Truman, asks you.
“Well, I usually let the parents eating only the nutrigel during rearing so they don’t get spoiled, as for safety, it would be bad if foals got sick from eating something that surrounds them so the quality stuff is foal safe.”
“Why the milk blocks them? Do they need some nutrient the nutrigel lacks?”
“Yes, the mothers milk helps with immunity, it also has fat and sugars that the mare body makes, things the nutrigel do not have, and as a matter of fact, the milk blocks will be tastier than the milk their mothers could make with their nutrigel diet, it will help them get over the separation quicker.”
As you say so, one of dr. Martin’s employee quietly walked to the dispenser and filled the dispenser with the milk block package.
“Well them, let’s see what they will have to say about it them.” You watch as dr. Martin uses the app on his phone to activate the dispenser near the foals, the blocks would be shifted and deposited on a transparent plastic plataform and lowered with fishing lines.
The foals where so enthralled in their conversation, but soon they started looking in the direction of the blocks
sniff “milkies?”
“Smeww miwkies tu.”
“Whewe miwkies, babbie wan.”
“Smeww miwkies ober thewe, whewe mummah?”
You watch as they start desperately waddling in the direction of the blocks, driven by their noses
You run over to the smell of milk, you hope is your mother coming to find you, but all you see is some white block toys “Why bwockies smeww wike miwkies?” You ask to no one as you sniff it, you notice the smallest filly licking the block.
“Bwokie miwkies am bestests miwkies, wub!” She exclaims as she starts to wolf down one of the blocks.
You too try to taste the white block, and it really is the best thing you ever experienced, it’s way better than your mean mother’s milk, as you eat you wonder, why did she give you that bad and plain milk? Did she not live you? Of course she didn’t, she even abandoned you. This fills you with rage and sadness. “Why mummah weabe babbie? Why neba gibe babbie bestest miwkies? Mummah nu wub babbie?”
“Meanie mummah nu wub, wub miwkie bwockie.”
Miwkie bwockies gibe bestest tummy hugs to good babbie." One of the other foals say, and is joined by you and the others in praise of the blocks.
_
“Ha ha, I see, looks like you really know what you’re doing, well, here’s the check, I put an extra 20% as thanks for your diligence, and I must ask you, would you like to receive the foals that do not fit the anesthetics of the display? Since there’s no need for special treatment I can just send them to you normally.”
“Of course, thank you, it’s been a pleasure doing bussiness with you.”