A small premise. This is the first part of my entry for Mutagen’s Munchkins 2.
Mutagen’s Munchkins 2: the Second One - (Artist:NekuChan) - Derivative Works - FluffyCommunity
I am in no way a great writer, so I hope whoever reads this might still find it somewhat interesting.
If not, well, thanks for taking the time to read it, I am sure you’ll find better authors out there.
Also, quick PSA, I am not a native english speaker, so feel free to correct any wrong grammar.
It was a warm summer night. The full moon’s light illuminated the town streets. A young man had been walking home from some late night partying, eating a sandwich he had picked up before leaving and enjoying the cool air of the night. Almost halfway through his snack, though, he felt no longer hungry. Spotting a large, green dumpster sitting in an alleyway just a few meters away from him, he wrapped up the remains, took aim and made the throw. Missing the target by a few inches, the package tumbled to the ground below.
“Ah, shucks. Almost had it”
With a shrug he left, his mind already thinking about a warm shower and his comfy bed.
As he walked away, a tiny brown mouse left the safety of his nest, a small hole in the wall, to look for susteinance. It had been part of a large pack once, before they had attracted the ire of a belligerant restaurant owner. It had soon found itself alone, for the first time in its life. Sniffing the air, it quickly caught the scent of ham and cheese. Once the food had been located, it started unwrapping its prize, unaware that something else had been intently observing its movements.
A short distance away, a pair of green eyes locked onto their target from the safety of a wooden door’s loose board. A rather small creature, a weird mixture of a pig and a horse in appeareance, less than an adult cat in size, stepped out of its hiding spot. The creature was known as a fluffy pony, or simply fluffy. A man-made animal, bioengineered to be the perfect pet, capable of actual reasoning and human speech, they were supposed to be shown to the public once the initial quirks had been ironed out. Such quirks included a limited vocabulary and childlike mentality, a persistant lisp, the inability to pronounce certain letters, an innate enmity for water and a weak bowel control in stressful situations. They were, however, prematurely released into the wild by animal rights activists, soon spreading far and wide. People had eventually adapted to their presence, much like other animals, either as ferals or as pets. Despite being artificially created, their status as sentient animals was quickly cemented.
Dark grey fluff covered this particular one’s body, his dark green mane and tail gently swishing in the night breeze. The feral fluffy was a surprisingly large foal, almost the size of a young colt. His little heart was pounding in his chest. He needed to provide food for his family, but he had never been in a fight with other fluffies, let alone a squeakie-monster! Had he been a big fluffy, the foal thought, he could have easily given the mouse sorry hoofies, then claim his prize. Instead, he wasn’t really sure he could do either. Still, he hoped he could at least scare the other animal away, snatch the nummies and retreat to the nestie his family had claimed just a few bright times ago.
While fluffies are far from being “killing machines”, feral ones usually have hardened hooves from spending their (usually short) lives walking on rough terrain. The foal, due to his young age, had yet to achieve such goal. This, however, was going to work out in his favor for once. Soft hooves meant less hitting power, sure, but they also meant quieter movements. Coupled with the noise the mouse was making while unwrapping the sandwich and the slight breeze sweeping the alleyway, the fluffy’s advance was surprisingly quiet. Once within reach of his quarry, the foal reared up on his hind legs and came crashing down with a loud grunt.
The noise immediately caused the mouse to turn towards its general direction. This would soon be its last mistake. Had it not turned its head, the fluffy’s soft hooves would have struck its back, which would have been able to withstand the couple pounds of foal. The head, however, couldn’t. Despite the lack of hardened hooves, the sheer weight was enough to cave the rodent’s skull in. The last thing the lone mouse saw was a hoof coming towards its face, followed by a wet “crunch”. Then, all went dark.
The young fluffy’s heart was beating like crazy in his little chest. Adrenaline coursing through his veins, he lifted his hoof. It really hurt, but the monster had gone forever sleepies. He had done it. A mixture of sadness and joy washed over the foal. Sure, he and his family needed the nummies, sure the creature was a monster… But he had just killed another living being, and hated himself for that. Lowering his head, he softly sobbed to himself.
"Huu huu… fwuffy nu wan’ gib owwies an’ foweba sweepies… fwuffies am fo’ huggies an’ wub!”
The rumbling in his stomach snapped him out of his trance, reminding him why he was out there in the first place. He collected the remains of the sandwich, securing them as best as he could on his back, then he picked up the dead mouse by its tail. Only once he had made his way past the door of the abandoned house his family lived in, did he feel safe again.
Unbeknownst to the young fluffy, another pair of eyes had been watching the scene with interest. From the cover of shadows, a man snickered to himself.
“So the little one is a fighter, eh? This will be even better than I imagined…”
Taking his backpack off, the stranger started rummaging through it.