As Nestor quietly debated which present to open up first he felt a mild tinge in his neural link, the two shoebox sized packages had a neural sync feature of some kind.
He raised one of his eyebrows but after a moments consideration he closed his eyes and began to allow the software to download.
It wasn’t uncommon for higher end toys to have features like that, he just didn’t expect to get anything like that from his uncle.
As the data streamed into the mechanical part of his mind, he reached down toward one of the shoebox sized parcels, wrapped in blue, grey and white paper.
“Wan miw’kes! Chirp chirp! Miw’kies!”
But stopped just shy as he managed to crinkle the paper as the high-pitched call of the foals in the box.
Setting his present down, he reached over to his backpack and pulled out a bottle of water and a small pouch of powdered fluffy formula.
Pouring about half of the pack of formula into the bottle and giving it a vigorous shake, Nestor waited until the contents took on the consistency of skim milk before pulling out a feeding reservoir in the box and filled it to the brim before pushing it back in with an audible click.
Within moments he could see a small drop of milk appear at the tips of each of the feeders in the box.
It only took the remaining foals a moment for them to smell the scent of the formula, prompting the smaller ones to wiggle their way over to the feeders and the older two to cautiously begin feeding at opposite ends of theirs.
Nestor looked down at the little puke green alicorn still curled into a terrified ball at his feet, placing the bottle close enough that the little creature could smell it. The alicorn uncovered its eyes and looked toward the bottle, before looking back at him.
He picked up the bottle and tilted the formula into a curled leaf before placing it down in front of it. The foal poked at it for a moment before timidly lapping up the contents. It may not be the best formula in the world, but they at least seemed to appreciate it.
“Huu! Nu tase pwe’ty! Wan miw’kies!”
…Most of them seem to appreciate it.
The brown almost chirpy pushed itself away from the feeding nozzle and began whining while tapping its hooves against the side of the square container that housed it.
Nestor simply looked down at the foal and frowned. Not even out of the box yet and already being a little…
He leaned over the box, reaching in with his fingers and tried to push the little foal toward the nozzle, but the moment it got close it immediately pushed away.
“Nu wan! Miw’kies! Wan Miw’kies!”
“I don’t have anything else; you need to-”
“BAB’BEH WAN MIW’KIES! MIW’KIES!”
“Chirp!” “Chirp! Peep!” “Peep! Peep!” “Chiiirrrp!”
Nestor glared down at the brown foal as a chorus of distressed ‘peeps’ and ‘chirps’ began to rise from the different cells in the box. Its obnoxious bitching having upset the other foals. That was his second strike.
Frustratedly, Nestor reached into the box and lightly pinched the brown earthies scruff before lifting it out of the box. It wriggled, fought, peeped loudly and even managed to sprinkle out a small portion of urine that he’d somehow managed to hang onto over the other chirpies.
“Sheesh, we’ve got a real winner here…”
Nestor placed the brown foal, who was still keeping its eyes shut as to not see what horrible monster was picking it up, and placed it down in the dirt across from the alicorn. It was sitting at two strikes before it even got out of the box, he didn’t have high hopes for it.
He tapped the brown foal on the head, eliciting another loud peep from the tiny fluffy before it half opened its eyes and looked up at his finger.
“What is that?” Nestor asked it, pointing in the direction of the alicorn as the brown foal tracked his finger.
“EEEEEEE! MUN’STAH! BAB’BEH NU WIKE!”
“Huu, huu… nu am munstah… am babbeh… huu huu…”
And that was strike three. Nestor picked up the brown foal again and looked around for a moment, until his eyes fell upon a nearby mound of dirt and an idea clicked in his head.
He reached out to his backpack and pulled the clear plastic lid off of his empty lunchbox before plucking using the corner of the box itself to dig a shallow hole into the mound, releasing a stream of pissed off ants as he did so.
He then picked up the brown foal, who again wriggled and kicked at him but didn’t release anything else having apparently run dry.
He then grabbed the remaining pouch of fluffy milk formula and doused the foal in the powder which stuck to its fur in a thin layer.
“BAB’BEH NU WAN! WAN MIW’KIES!”
“You have milkies you little turd! YoU dOn’T wAnT tHeM, rEmEmBeR?!”
Nestor took the now powder covered foal and dangled it above the shallow hole in the anthill he gouged out, before flicking the foal in the nose with his finger and immediately dropping it into the hole.
Before the foal could piece together what had happened between the pain of the flick and the fall, he quickly covered the top of the hole with the clear plastic lid and placed a couple of heavy stones on either end to hold it down.
He then laid down on his belly, rested his head in his hands and simply, watched.
