Traveler Part 1: Nyu Namesie (by Nundevwizer)

(This is the story of the blue colt from Survival of the Foal-ist, who was exiled from the bush when he threatened Pinkie.)

He held his head up as it began to rain. Only a light drizzle, but it was enough to remind him that he needed to find shelter fast.

“dummeh wawa.”

The young blue colt had only been out on his own for 7 hours since he was banished from the bush his mother and half-siblings were hiding in. His departure couldn’t have come at a better time as he could hear the barkie munstahs and the pained cries of his mother’s other offspring. He felt no remorse leaving them behind as they were the children of the smarty that killed his father, and he was angry he never got his revenge. So, he left them to their fate, his mother included. By now, they were most likely dead or dying, but he didn’t care, Lemon Tart wanted him gone for threatening her pink bestest babbeh, and so he left.

As he walked down the sidewalk, his right front hoof started feeling uncomfortable. It was covered with the booboo juice of the poopie babbeh he killed. He stopped and looked at his hoof. The juice was smeared across from walking, so he stepped over to a nearby puddle and tried scrubbing the booboo juice off by rubbing his hoof on the asphalt at the bottom of the puddle. Initially, he rubbed it too rough and almost hurt himself.


He looked at his hoof, no damage, so he tried again. This time, he scrubbed more gently, and after a minute, his hoof was sufficiently clean, at least to the eye, but nothing would wash the blood of his innocent and lonely crippled runt of a half-brother from his soul. No tears were shed over the poopie babbeh, for his health as a runt was very questionable, despite his energy. His deformed leg would’ve doomed him if he ever left the bush. So, in a way, the Colt thought he was doing his low-status half-brother a favor by putting him out of his misery.

With his hoof clean, he continued his aimless trek down the sidewalk through a local business district south of downtown. He hadn’t eaten in days and was starving. His stomach growled incessantly for sustenance; he was also feeling weak.

“huhu… hab tummie owwies… nee nummies wight nao… huhu…”

He comes across a seafood restaurant. It was closed, but one of the trash cans was knocked over and the bag had ripped open from when it fell, spilling out thrown away food onto the ground.

“Nummies!” In other words, it was a buffet for a hungry fluffy colt with nowhere else to go. He dashes over to the spilled garbage with adrenaline rushing through his veins. Upon reaching it, he goes to town on the garbage nummies.

num num num “Wub wawa munstah nummies!” num num num

He had seen seafood before when he and his old herd stayed a day by the harbor where they peered through a window during lunch hour watching people eat the munstahs that came from the big wawa at the northern part of the city.

As he ate the partially eaten remains of a cooked lobster, the wind howled as it came in from the lake and flowed through the alley. The lobster tasted good… at least better than the other trashie nummies he had eaten in the past. However, it wasn’t long until all the edible meat was gone and only the shell was left. The lobster had been mostly eaten before he found it, so not much was there, to begin with, but it helped settle his stomach and buy him time to find a full meal.

The colt pushed away the lobster shell and foraged through the spilled trash looking for any other “wawa munstah nummies” to eat. Sadly, he only finds one more partially eaten lobster and there was only a bite or two left of meat in the shell. Otherwise, he just finds shrimp tails, scallop scraps, small bits of leaves from salads, etc. The tails were no good, so all that was edible were some partially eaten scallops, and lettuce leaves that had only gone slightly bad.

After eating what he could, he yawned. He had been on the move since the night and was feeling sleepy. He would need to find somewhere out of the way so no one could find him, so he ventured into the alleyway until he found a turned-over box hidden behind some garbage cans. Perfect timing as the rain started to come down harder.

“Wawa bad foa fwuffies! Nee geh in housie!”

He ran right inside the box as the rain started pouring down. Letting out a huff of exhaustion, he rolled onto his side and watched as the rain came down. He was tired from his journey from the suburb and his stomach was digesting, so he decided to go to sleep. There wasn’t much else for him to do until it stopped raining. But once it did, he would go back out to resume his search for a special friend to start a herd with.

It didn’t stop. Half a day later, it was still raining, hard.

“Aww… poopies.”

And he was hungry again. He looked out around the area around the box hoping to see something he might have missed in his dash for cover. As he surveyed the area from the safety of his box, he felt something drip on his neck.


He rolled away from the offending drop of water, only for another to hit him in the face.

“SCREEEEEEE!!” He got on his feet and saw, to his horror, that the “roof” of the box was so saturated with water, that it started to leak through. Now he was stuck in a dilemma: he couldn’t stay in the box as he was hungry and the box would probably get all wet, but he also couldn’t leave cause then he’d get wet and might freeze to death.

He was forced to leave as the pool of water that had built upon the top of the box caused the side of the box to fold and collapse under its weight.


The colt managed to jump out as the box was squashed under all the weight of that rainwater.


But then he realized he was now soaking wet. As the rain came down, he got wetter and wetter, and colder as the water in his fluff started to leech the heat from his body.


He ran further into the alley hoping to find stable shelter. The water in his fluff made him heavy, thus made it hard for him to run for very long. Rounding a corner, he came across the entrance to a parking garage.

“Finawy! Dwy housie!” He ran inside and down the ramp to the lower floor of the garage. As he ran, water dripped off him like a towel, leaving small puddles in his wake.

“Nee… geh way… fwom sky… wawa…”

It wasn’t until he reached the bottom of the ramp he got to take in the sights. The garage was in poor condition, chipped paint on the walls, pieces of broken concrete, exposed rebar in the floor, dilapidated cars, and tents left behind by squatters and the homeless. There was no one else there, besides him, so it was most likely an abandoned homeless camp.

The sight gave the little blue colt a bad feeling, the lack of activity in the garage made him feel uneasy. Then lightning cracked outside.


He dashed down the middle of the garage, shitting and pissing himself along the way. He passed by a car and a tent, the remains of a campfire, and some boxes the now long-gone squatters used as tables and chairs. He was soon quickly tired out by the moisture in his fluff, panting, he felt himself shivering as he looked for somewhere to lie down and dry off. As he slowly walked down the row of abandoned tents, he heard a faint whistle just a little further down the way.

“…Wah am dat?” He pondered.

He picked up his pace until he reached a ramp that went up with big yellow arrows pointing upward. Past the ramp, there was another row of tents, all abandoned… save one. There was also a flickering orange light towards the end near the wall. The young colt had no idea who or what it could be, but the flickering light could only mean a fire, which meant warmth, which was what he needed at that moment.

“wawmie ting… wan wawmie ting… mae bad wawa and coldies gu way…”

He walked down the row of tents, and as he got closer to the orange light, he heard singing.

~…just a little patience…~

The colt slowly walks through until he comes across an opening between a pair of tents. There sat a man wearing a ratty brown coat with a guitar in his hands, playing a tune in front of a small fire kept alive by pieces of 2-by-4 wooden boards.

~…said woman, take it slow. And things will be just fine…~

The song was slow, low, and melodic. The man would whistle between chorus’s as he strummed his fingers over the guitar’s strings.

~…I’ve been walking the streets at night…~

The little blue colt slowly approached the man as he played his ballad. The man was completely zoned out as he played, having no awareness that a little blue fluffy was enjoying his song.

~…I ain’t got time for the game cause I need y-~

At that moment, the colt interrupted him.

“Pwetty song!”

“Oh shit!” The man jumped up in fright, throwing his guitar away from him.

“What the hell?!”

The guitar smashed itself against the side of a nearby car. Pieces of it flung out. The man immediately stopped as he heard the guitar break into pieces.

“Oh god no!” He ran over. The blue fluffy stood in shook as the man ran over to cradle the remains of his guitar in his hands.

“No… old Berta…” The man started to cry as he held the busted guitar that he had for a long time to his chest.

“Nyu fwiend nee huggies?”

The man slowly turned to look at the unwanted guest standing nearby. He felt his sorrow turn to rage as he had now found the culprit responsible for scaring him and making him break his prized guitar.

“You little shit!” He stood up growling and swiftly approached the fluffy.

“Wah…?” The man grabbed the colt by the fluff on the back of his neck and hauled him up to his face.

“Bad upsies! Bad upsies! Nuuuu!”

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve had that guitar?! How much it cost me?! It was the only thing I had left after that bitch took everything from me after the divorce! And now you took it from me!”

As he screamed in the colt’s face, the colt started to “huhu” as if he was crying.

“Sowwy mista… sniff … jus wubed pwetty song… huhu…”

The man shook his head, the dirty faded blonde hair on his head swayed back and forth with his head. “Where did you even come from you little gremlin?”

“Pwease nu hewties!”

As he inspected the colt, he felt the wet dampness of his fluff and saw some red stains on the colt’s hoof.

“So, you’re a traveler, huh?”

“…nyu…nyu namsie? Wub nu namsie!”

“Ugh! I’m not naming you, you little shit! I’m gonna kill you for destroying my guitar!”

The colt started crying again.

“Pwease nu gib Twabawa foweba sweepies! Huhu! Am gud fwuffy!”

The man had enough.

“That’s it!” He maneuvers his hands around the little “traveler’s” head and started to squeeze.


“I’m gonna crush your skull until I see brains you sack of shit!” The man applied more pressure.

“SCREEEEEEEEEEE!!” The traveler started swinging his body to shack himself out of the man’s grip, pissing himself as he did.

“Come on!” The man bellowed. “Let’s see some gray matter!”

As he applied even more pressure, Traveler’s eyes started to bulge out.


At that moment, he let out a torrent of shit. As his body was swinging back and forth, he managed to aim his anus toward the man’s face and covered it in shit.

“AHHHHHH!! I CAN’T SEE!!” He drops the errant fluffy and clawed at his face trying to wipe the feces from his eyes.

“DAMN IT ALL!” In his attempt to wipe his face, he trips on his guitar.

“OH FUCK!” And fell into the fire.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!” He was instantly set ablaze as he hadn’t showered in months, his body and clothes covered in grease. Flailing around trying to put the fire out, but it burned hot thanks to his greasy wardrobe.


As the fire burned, his skin sparked and seared like a ribeye steak, his eyes melted. The pain was too intense for him to try and get out of the firepit and roll around to put it out.


Minutes passed as he found he couldn’t move anymore and just gave himself to the fire as the little blue colt had curled himself into a ball and closed his eye shut hoping for the “buwnie munstah” to go away.


The man gave his last cry of agony as the fire took him. Silence had come at last. The little colt opened his eyes and saw the burned body of the man who had nearly crushed his skull minutes before.

“Dummie buwnie munstah!” He puffed his cheeks and ran over to the side of the burned corpse. Lifting his leg, he proceeded to urinate on it.

“Tae sowwy peepees!”

After relieving himself, he felt his stomach growl. He hadn’t eaten a full meal in days. Turning away, he saw a tent with a sleeping bag inside, there were small wrappings left laying nearby. Upon inspection, they were candy wrappers, most were empty, but he came across one candy bar that hasn’t been opened yet.


He went to work trying to pry the wrapper open. Grabbing the bar with his hooves, he used his teeth to rip the wrapper open. It took a couple of tries, but he managed to tear the wrapper open. He then wasted no time digging in. it didn’t take long for him to eat the whole Snickers bar, but he did find more. The now-dead homeless man had been surviving off of them along with the occasional fast food he bought with money the occasional passerby would give him.

The colt would end up eating through twelve bars of snickers before laying down on the dead bum’s bed. He was now full and about to fall asleep. As he drifted off, he thought about the name the man gave him: Traveler. He liked that name… mainly cause his mummah never gave him one.

He went to dreamland smiling as he now had something to call himself.

“Wub nyu namesie… wub nyu housie…”

The corpse nearby kept burning as he slept, making our traveler think he was alone…

He wasn’t. A shadow lurked at the end of the row near the ramp that Traveler passed on his way in, basically repeating his approach. Far enough away not to wake him, the shadow peeped a few words.

“…Nyu fwiend?”


Oh Traveler gonna have a new friend?

Damn poor hobo got burned due to shit, glad he didnt burn the whole place from those abandon tent just within the fireplace.




Not like he didn’t deserve it. You get scared by a fluffy of all things, break your guitar and try to kill the only animal that could keep you some company? Burn in heck, mah boi. It wasn’t even like Traveler had knocked the guitar over or something.


I honestly thought Traveler was gonna eat the hobo. Cooked meat is still cooked meat regardless of origin


Hehe maybe Traveler could eat the cooked hobo after he eats through the rest of the candy bars. Just has to look and smell it a little first to get the idea.

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Would you honesty want a fluffy to get a taste of human flesh, cooked or otherwise?


I think it be horrendous, but I was intrigued to see if things took that turn

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No human deserves death

Guess we’ll have to agree to disagree then. :derp: