Monday-
Apparently I was beat enough I left at least one door open, but it led to the most hilarious morning since I moved in.
First, I woke up to the splendid sound of Foxfire knocking my lamp off the desk as she explored my room, compiled with opening my eyes to Rook with his nose nearly touching mine. “Mummah ‘wake now? Dewe babbeh.” Marnie was curled around my bottle orphan on his little nightstand towel nest, looking as nervous as ever.
“Ti-Tink babbeh hungry, mummah Shado’. Bu’ wewe babbeh mummah? Mawnie nu hab miwkies.” I was half surprised the timid little twit wasn’t having a fit about ‘munsta’ babbehs’ but… I suppose at this point everyone here is a monster to her, and she’s learning to deal with that. The baby at least hasn’t eaten her friends and family in front of her. Not the usual method of alicorn desensitization, but if it works…
“Babbeh wook wittw wike Pack, bu’ nu smeww wike Pack?” Rook asked, cuddling closer as I sat up. The unfortunate scrap under discussion starting up a new round of demanding chirps, only to quiet briefly as Marnie nuzzled him. Clearly the way he’d been kept calm for the three extra hours of sleep I’d managed.
“He’s… Think of him like Marnie, Rook. Off limits for nummies… or the games you play with the nummy fluffies, unless I specifically say otherwise. Actually, that goes for any fluffies inside, okay? Rule two, unless I say otherwise.” My nightstand drawers were pulled out into makeshift stairs, with teeth marks in the plastic handles. If I hadn’t had the extra sleep due to someone keeping the baby comforted, I’d have been pretty annoyed at all this. But precious, blessed sleep. “I’ll go get milk for the baby, Marnie, don’t worry. Foxfire, stay right where you are.”
“Babbeh fwiend tu pack, bu’ nu pack friend. Wook undastan’, Mummah,” He jumped down to follow me as I set the next bottle to heat and cleaned up the broken bits of porcelain from the lamp base. Luckily, my house shoes were in reach of the bed.
“Pretty much, yeah. Foxfire. What’s the rule about climbing on things without permission?” I asked, as the milk warmed.
She opened her mouth, shut it again, and gave me her most appealing grin. “Nu du?”
My smile probably wasn’t the nicest at that. “Right. Because high shelves might have breakable things on them. Like the lamp.”
“Sowwy bweak bwite ting, Mummah Shado’.” Still trying the ‘look extra cute’ method, which she is admittedly good at. “Fo’fia fowge’ bout wule, sowwy Mummah Shado’ nu happyies.”
“Remember what I said when you brought Marnie in? That you were responsible for her and I’m punishing you together?” There was a far more puzzled nod at that, Marnie’s head shooting up in sudden alertness. “That applies to both of you. If you break rules, both of you get punished then too. But…” Both of them were near tears at that. “But Marnie has been really good this morning, when the baby was unhappy and I needed to sleep. So instead of her good deed getting you both ‘sketti’, it gets both of you let out of time in the sorry box instead.”
“Nu sketti? Bu’ Auwowa an Gwowy be good pwincesses an’ wet Shado’ hab sweepies tu. Auwowa an’ Gwowy hab da sketties ‘stead?” Both of them were in the doorway, watching all of this.
“Nope. For one, ‘sketties’ are for doing above and beyond or when I feel like it, not just for not breaking any rules. Not breaking rules is the bare minimum of what I expect from you. For another, Glory, what do you think a princess is?” No matter what he was about to say, I was pretty sure it would be worth a laugh.
“Pwincesses awe wike Sewestwia an’ Wuna an’ Cadens? Awe nice an’ pwettiest an’ hab wingies and pointies? An’ dey gu to Gawwoppin’ Gawas.” Glory slowly explained, his head in the puzzled tilt of a creature wrestling with a new concept. Fluffies wear that expression a lot, I’ve noticed. “An’…”
“An’ hab cwownies an’ powa’ tu teww uddas wat du an’ awe gweat an’ wight,” Aurora finished for him. Her rope contiues to braid itself into a noose, even if I did manage to avoid slapping that stupid, arrogant, smug look off her damn face.
“Yeah. Missing at least one major detail there, kiddos. How do I…. what else do Celestia, Luna, and Cadence all have in common that, say, Big Mac or Shining Armor don’t?” Utter bafflement, utter bafflement, and, after a long pause, a sudden snort from behind my ankles. And there was Rook, hiding his muzzle behind one hoof as he looked between me and the others.
“Pwincessies aww mawes?” he asked, a distinct amount of glee in his voice. “Big Mac an’ Shinin’ Awmow awe stawwions, wike Pwinc’ Bwu Bwood, an da uddas awe mawes, wight Mummah‽” Glory looked like he’d bitten into a lemon, and Rook was increasingly unable to hide the snickers. “Gwowy wan be mawe! Pwincess Gwowy!”
“Nu! Gwowy nu am mawe! Nu wan be pwincess nu mowe!” Glory shrieked, stamping his hooves. “Nu am mawe!” Ah, the siren sounds of outraged adolescent male dignity. Even the girls were giggling a bit by this point. It did completely wake the baby, but the milk was heated enough by that point I had to feed him anyways. Glory huffed off to the corner of the playroom to sulk with his blocks, Aurora huffed off to go watch FluffTV and whine about not getting sketti under her breath when she thought I was out of earshot. Much as the late nights get to me, this job has its moments.
Margarita’s three remaining foals seem to be doing just fine.The fact they came from a litter with an alicorn should boost the price of any that keep half decent color by at least ten, fifteen bucks. Always a fool willing to try the Alicorn gatcha, especially with the fillies, trying to get a payday before they have to fix their new pet. More power and luck to them, as long we can keep the lights on.
Dave already had to shell out for a full breeder’s licence for this place with the demonfluffs, and it doesn’t restrict us by sub-species. I’m still planning on insisting we fix all the demonfluffs we sell, keep the supply lower until our investments are recouped. Dave’s investments, whatever. I also, for some reason, don’t like the idea of them going feral and invasive like the fluffies already out there. Slightly larger, fanged fluffies, with a touch more survival instincts(theoretically, per Bill’s notes)? Normal ones are rat level pests, these would be more like small pariah dogs. I love them, and they would be amazing in the right homes, but ferals? Oof.
Cottoncandy’s three are still alright as well. My encouragement of the other day was apparently enough to convince her to look after the beige unicorn just as well as the others. She only has the three, and decent rations, there’s more than enough milk to go around. Still wouldn’t call her the greatest mother ever, but she’s muddling along. The two really are a nice shade of pink, very salmonish, and even that light beige the last has could be saleable with the right mane color. Or they could all have puke green manes and get moved outside, one and all.
All seven of Pepper’s litter are still thriving, I think the newest kibble is finally helping her make enough milk for everyone. Might still have to supplement them sometimes if that flags, but she is doing her absolute utmost. Seriously considering moving her into the run next to the surrogates. The space and litterbox could only help her, the extra company of the others through the chainlink can only help all of them. I mean, the other two mares are going to have fits if I move Pepper and not them but They are being such brats. Cottoncandy wants sketti, Margarita wants toys and her sister, both of them shrieked at the foal I was still carrying. Pepper was scared as well, but snapped back at them about “munsta babbeh stiww babbeh! Nee’ wub an’ miwkies an’ huggies tu! Wike aww babbehs.” Let her hold the alicorn while I got the third run ready. I might just let her help raise it, if she keeps being tolerant about the idea. Marnie is being a great help now, but I don’t want the Pack getting too attached to it via Foxfire.
Pepper squealed over the space in the run, the larger waterbottle, the actual litterbox, the bed in the corner. She damn near lost her mind at being able to watch FluffTV through the kennel gates. I managed to piece together that she’s one of those idiots who decide they want babies and decide they can run away to have them, and has been regretting leaving home, even when she found “speciew fwiend Howwy” and got the “tummeh babbehs” she wanted. Fuck, she’s actually been thanking me for “hab housie, nu be outsideies, hab wots a nummies fo’ make miwkies fo’ aww babbehs.” (I did check for a chip or a collar, and she can’t remember where she lived or who her daddeh was. Did a quick search on the local fluffy sites and shelter pages to make sure there wasn’t missing posters, nothing. We’re in the clear, nothing on any of the breeders, or on Marnie. Pretty sure Marnie was outright abandoned.)
I had a brilliant idea before I did the outdoor rounds. Borrowed Marnie from Foxfire, put her in the run with Pepper and the little alicorn. Between the two of them, they can tend 8 newborns for a while, and I left a bluetooth monitor with them. Told Marnie to yell into it if Pepper doesn’t have enough “miwkies” for everyone or anything happens with the alicorn. Pretty sure 8 is still too much for Pepper to handle on her own, but if this works for a few hours, I can at least get a good nap in. Once the boys come in after lunch, anyways. They just have to get some cleaning done, and I’d rather fix what they miss tonight than stay up and hover today.
First Chapter-The Pack- because what we need is more fluffies bred to eat other fluffies. (1) by :Shadowfox
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