You’re Cherry. You’re a soon mumma. You have the prettiest and sharpest horn in the herd. And you’re the smarties special friend. Well, you used to be. The smarty, like many before him, had struck out with his herd to find new lands. In typical smarty fashion he didn’t think about why a gate would be left open. He didn’t see your new mumma hiding behind it. All he saw was a nice enclosed clearing for his herd with lots of plant nummies growing in it. You and every fluffy around you made scaredy poopies when the gate you had just walked through closed behind the last of your herd. You remember the way your special friend puffed his cheeks and bravely went to confront your new mumma. You remember the way he yelled, “Dis smarty wand.” up at your new mumma. You remember the color of his brains as they splashed across the rocks a second later. But that was many forevers ago. Thinking about it gives you the worstest heart hurties.
Living with Mumma wasn’t bad. The night you arrived Mumma gave you all a big pile of kibble nummies before you all made a fluff pile in the corner for the night. The herd too scardies of what your new mumma will do to them. Mumma gave you all a small housie in the yard to sleep in, but she took all the munsta fluffies into the big housie with her. You don’t know what the herd will do with their poopies now without the munstas. You didn’t want the herd to make bad poopies in your new housie. Being a soon mumma made that even harder. You could barely walk as it was. What if mumma hurt your tummy babies cause you made bad poopies.
You’re Martha and you have just successfully lured a herd of fluffies into your back yard. You have blood on your legs, but the smarty had to be killed and your boot was the perfect weapon. You smile as you see the three malnourished and battered alicorns slowly bringing up the back of the herd. They wouldn’t be useful to you but it was good to know that the herd produced them. You quickly close the gate behind the dumbstruck herd before they come to grips with the sudden murder of their smarty. Your return to the front of the herd as the crying starts. The soft huuu huuus of the herd falling before the exclamation of munsta as you came back into their sights. Many of them running back and beating their hooves uselessly against the now closed gate, begging it to let them back out.
You crack a whip above the fluffies, gaining their scared attention along with a wave of scardie poopies. “All fluffies here belong to me now. I am your new Mumma.” You roll your eyes as whispered New Mummas come from the herd. The notorious short attention spans of the creatures working against them as usual. “Tonight you will sleep in that housie.” You point to a large chicken coop you had set up on the far side of your garden against the fence. The fluffies started to push against each other, excitedly trying to get to their new housie. Only the fat red fluffy that your sure was the smarties special friend seems to have been able to withstand the good news. You decide to let them have their moment as you stop the alicorns from following the herd. “You get to live with mumma.” You say with a smile. They slowly look between you and the herd pushing their way into the coop. “Otay.” they say as they lay down in the lawn. You carry the fat red one to the coop. The constant whine of upsies bad for babies gave you your answer about her. After feeding the herd and shutting up the coop for the night you collect the alicorns and place them into a specially prepared saferoom outfitted with everything a fluffy could ever want. You’d give them a day to settle in before you started to train them.