The Way Home // Chapter 4: To Train a Smarty (by: Beast)

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“Babbeh wan be smawty?”

The young colt puffed up his cheeks to make himself look bigger as he responded, “Spike nee’ be bestest smawty! Den Spike pwotec bwuddah an’ sissie fwom meanies an’ munstahs!”

The red smarty noticed the determination in the little foal’s tone of voice and decided to get a second opinion, “Bwuddah, am babbeh smawty babbeh?”

“Yus bwuddah! Smawty babbeh knu fwuffy nu am munstah, wike bwuddah!”

The smarty was impressed by his brother’s recommendation, most fluffies never realized his brother wasn’t a monster even when he tried to explain it to them. So for a baby to understand the difference spoke volumes to the colt’s potential intelligence.

“Babbeh am smawty babbeh! Smawty wiww teach babbeh tu be bestest smawty evah! Bu’ am dawkie-time naow. Hewd sweepies, den smawty teach babbeh when bwight-time.”

So the herd laid down on each of their sleeping spots creating fluffpiles to keep warm and make the darkness of the night a little less scary. The foals snuggled into the black mare’s fluff as it gave warmth, comfort, and a reminder of their home. One by one the fluffies nodded off to sleep; preparing themselves for another day of scavenging, hiding, and playing.

“Spike wiww… be… mmmm… bestest smawty…”

As the sun rose and creeped through the windows of the abandoned building each fluffy began to stir from their sleeping spot with a mumbled “am bwight-time?”

“Am bwight-time, time fo’ nummies!”

With the promise of food all of the fluffies began to tap their hooves in excitement. Several stallions (including the green alicorn) left their sleeping spots and followed the smarty to an adjacent room. After a few moments the stallions returned carrying food which they distributed among the sleeping spots, giving extra food to nursing mares and ‘soon-mummahs’. The food itself was a mixed bag in quality: there were half eaten candy bars and sandwiches, semi-fresh to fully rotten fruit, and mush that could technically pass as edible. The fluffies ate their fill, while the herd’s babies constantly asked their feasting mothers “when time fo’ miwkies?”

When the nursing mares had filled up they rolled over onto their sides and let the foals have some milk. Once Spike was sure he was full, he popped of the mare’s teat as fast as possible and began looking around the room for the smarty. He saw the red stallion talking with a tan colored mare and immediately took off in their direction.

“Fwuffies nee’ wots of nummies fo’ cowd-times, nummie-findahs nee’ find mowe nummies.”

“Otay smawty, bu’ dere nu am nummies sum bwight-times.”

“Dat otay, den fwuffies num wess nummies.”

Finally the two fluffies came to an agreement and went their separate ways, only for spike to cut the smarty off in the middle of his path. “Spike am weady tu be bestest smawty evah!”

The smarty was caught off guard before he remembered the night before, “Smawty babbeh wan be weaw smawty?”

The young colt vigorously nodded his head.

“Den fowwow smawty! smawty show babbeh wha’ smawty du!”

Spike set off to learn the secrets of being a smarty, first stop was the herd’s food storage. As the two entered the room the smarty began to talk, “Dis am nummie woom! nummie-findahs bwing wots an’ wots of nummies su hewd nu get tummie-huwties.”

One of the corners of the room was piled high with the types of food that were given out for breakfast. Although Spike was confused as to why there were a few stallions surrounding the pile, “Why fwuffies am by nummies?”

“Dose fwuffies am toughies! Toughies am mostest stwong fwuffy, dey pwotec hewd fwom munstahs! pointy-wingie bwuddah am bestest toughie evah! Dese toughies pwotec nummies fwom muntahs an’ bad fwuffies!”

Spike sat patiently during the explanation and occasionally clapped his hooves together in excitement. “Can toughies beat aww munstahs?”

The smarty’s happy tone born of his pride in his toughies soon turned to melancholy and a hint of regret. “Nu… sum munstahs am tuu stwong fo’ toughies… fwuffies hide fwom stwong munstahs… bu’ sum of hewd gu foweva-sweepies…”

Spike gasped, he did not want encounter these horrible beasts that could best the strongest of fluffies. When the smarty had finished reminiscing he realized that he had frightened the young colt. To calm the foal down he gently wrapped a hoof around him and said, “Am otay, nestie am safe fwom stwong munstahs! Nu be scawdies.”

When Spike had finally settled down the two continued on their way around the building. The Smarty showed spike everywhere in the building, from the hiding room to the scary dark rooms. After a while the two looped around to the main room, the smarty brought Spike back to the black mare’s sleeping spot where his brother and sister were playing huggy-tag.

“Bwuddah! Sissie! Spike weawn wots an’ wots! Gon be bestest smawty evah!”

The trio hugged to celebrate Spike’s progress, but Tulip and Berry had their own desires to express as well.

“Tuwip wan hewp tuu!”

“Bewwy wan pwotec bwuddah, sissie, an’ wittwe chiwpe-babbeh!”

The smarty heard the two foals and decided to see if they were worth training as well, “Wha owange babbeh du gud?”

“Tuwip am bestest spwowin’ babbeh!”

“Spwowin’ babbeh am gud fo’ findin’ nummies… du babbeh wan be nummie-findah?”

Tulip’s face lit up at the prospect of being something as important as a nummie-finder, “Yus! Tuwip wuv nummies an’ wuv findin’ things!”

“Den owange babbeh wiww be nummie-findah!”

Then the smarty turned his attention to Berry who instinctively steps back. “Bwue babbeh wan pwotec oddah babbehs?”

Berry gave a weak nod, the smarty looked him over and after a little bit of thinking came to the conclusion, “Babbeh wan be toughie?”

“Toughie?”

Before the smarty could answer Spike cut in enthusiastically, “Toughies am stwongest fwuffies evah! Dey pwotec oddah fwuffies fwom munstahs an’ meanies!”

A spark of desire could be seen in Berry’s eyes as Spike described the grand specimen that was a toughie. A being at the top of the fluffy pyramid, only rivaled by a true smarty. “Bewwy wan be toughie!”

So it was decided: Spike would become a smarty under the tutelage of the red smarty, Tulip would become a nummie-finder under the teachings of the tan colored mare, and Berry would become a toughie under the guidance of the green alicorn.

Spike learned about the cold-times and the importance of warmth and stocking food. Tulip learned how to differentiate good nummies from bad nummies by smell. Berry learned the best formations to protect a herd. Days went by as the three kept learning and their teeth finally grew in, they were getting bigger even if they were still foals. While the trio was happy that they were part of such a friendly herd, they couldn’t forget their mother and the thought that their daddy was alone ate them up inside. No matter how ingrained they became in the herd they still desired to go back home, though maybe with some new friends in-tow now.


Simon woke up with a creak in his back and he just knew it was going to be one of those days. He did his usually morning routine and got his car to start his 30 minute drive to work. Simon wasn’t particularly happy with how his life was going at the moment, not like he had a bad home or body or anything. He made good pay at his job, but the job itself was the problem. Every-time he finished a day of work he just went home laid down and slept the rest of the day, he just didn’t have the energy to do anything else.

It was just another day, there had been no word about John’s pets, though Simon wasn’t surprised. The city had so many fluffies hanging around that the chances of pick out four specific ones was close to impossible.

“Hey Simon! You ready for another beautiful day?”

The chipper voice of Simon’s boss Victor Stout called to him from across the building. Simon had once asked Victor how he stayed so upbeat in this line of work and his answer scared Simon to his core, “Got used to it, I’ve been doing this long enough that I don’t really feel anything while working anymore.”

“So what are we dealing with today?”

“Glad you asked Simon, we have been contracted to clear out an abandoned building that has recently become overrun with ferals.”

Simon started to sweat, “So are we going with the standard protocol, or…”

“Look Simon, I know you’re not happy about what we have to do. Honestly I’m not either, but we aren’t provided with enough capital or resources to find areas to relocate them. We can’t even give them to shelters because they already are filled to the brim. Just do the job, get paid, and don’t think about it, okay?”

Simon nodded, it’s all he could do, he needed this job. He just hadn’t expected he’d have to exterminate something that begged for its life.

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Really enjoying this @Beast, thank you!

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Been enjoying it.

Hopefully Simon can at least save John’s fluffies, if he realizes it’s them.

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Well, let’s hope Simon doesn’t fuck things up for the foals.

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It’ll be interesting since they’re going to have divided attachments as they get more and more integrated into the herd. And a good one at that.

If anything, they might ruin things for Simon.

In a spiteful way I want Simon and John to split custody and for that neighbor to move out in disgust.

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