Part 3: Visit from a Friend
*Author’s note
Completely blanked on describing the mare’s physiology, so sorry about that here a list of mares and the type of fluffy they are.
Dido: Earthy
Helen: Pegasus
Gaea: Earthy
Tomyris: Unicorn
Boudicca: Unicorn
Livia: Earthy
Agrippina: Earthy
Locusta: Pegasus
Inanna: Pegasus
Nefartiti: Earthy
Olympias: Unicorn
Zenobia: Unicorn
As you moved closer to the stallions they took an attentive stance as if they were used to hard discipline. This is good, if anything that dictatorial smarty fuck had done was positive it was this. You took notice of how two of the three stallions had battle-scars and were fairly muscular for a fluffy. They must be the so-called “tuffies”, the praetorian guard equivalent for a fluffy herd and their smarty. I first turned to the unscathed stallion, he was a brown earthy with a red mane. It seems that the reason he wasn’t a tuffie as well was the poopie-fluffy stigma. He was malnourished but not to the point of being in danger. Thankfully you bought hella spaghetii-os on your way back from West Lake so he would finally get a meal he deserves. Because of how inefficient the fluffy digestive system is, a fluffy could feasibly survive off of other fluffy’s shit but that would present problems later in life. It looks like this one had enough freedom to forage for himself. You made a mental note of the rudimentary survival skills this stallion had. It was pretty impressive for a fluffy ostracized from birth by his herd to be able to survive to adulthood without noticeable physical defects.
“Hey there guy, do you want a name?”
“Fwuffy hab namsie, namsie is poopeh-fwuffy…huuuhuuu…”
He was obviously distressed at the mere reminder of his place in the caste system enforced by the smarty.
“That’s not a good name my man, I’m going to name you Pasion”
“Fwuffy hab nyu namsie?! Pasy-on wiw be gweat fluffy fo’ daddeh!”
“I bet you will buddy”
Next you turned to one of the tuffies, a gold pegasus with a red mane. Something immediately stuck out to you, above his forehead was an odd-looking stubble. You moved closer, putting one hand on the stallion’s back to comfort him as you took a closer look. Sure enough he was an alicorn. His parents might have cleaved his horn off by stupidity, accident, or for his good. Whatever the reason he managed to become some kind of undercover alicorn. Hell he may not even know it. He spoke up before you addressed him which took you off guard.
“Tuffie am sowwy for smawty bein a dummeh. Nu wike smawty an’way, smawty gib horny-pointy babbeh foweba sweppies an gib bad speciou huggies tu speciou fwiend!”
“Who’s your special friend little guy?”
He motioned to Tomyris, she must be pregnant with the smarty’s children instead of the alicorn. The poor guy’s probably been cucked for years. The name came naturally for you.
“Alright, your name is Cyrus got it? Your special friend’s name is Tomyris, and she is soon-mummah with the smarty’s childrens. I can change that but only if Tomyris want to do it.”
“Otay daddeh, Cywus su happy tu hab daddeh! Daddeh hewp fwuffies, git wid o’ bad smawty!”
This was the guy, this was the model you were looking for. He was seemingly obedient, pretty intelligent, and had no biases towards other fluffies that you could tell. He was going to be the standard here on out, he was going to be the main stud. I’ll give the other’s a chance but this is a for-sure breeding-grade fluffy especially for what you want to do. The next stallion was a dark blue earthy with a light blue mane.
“Alright my guy your name is going to be Hamurabi.”
“Otay daddeh… Humwabi be gud fwuffy…”
He looked at you the entire time he said those few words, fluffies were designed to be talkative, it’s in the very fiber of their existence but this one was oddly calm and stoic. You examined him a little closer and nothing really stood out to you, he was just very even-keel.
There were only 3 colts, it seemed the smarty wanted to cull any competition for mates and for his position as the alpha male. Female smarties did exist but fluffies are fairly patriarchal overall. One of the colts trotted up to you and puffed his cheeks out. He was a light blue unicorn with a neon yellow mane and it was obvious he was the favorite son of the smarty, chosen for succession probably entirely by his colors at birth. He was slightly larger than the other colts, a little pudgy and a little taller than the others of his age.
“Dummeh daddeh gib bestest daddeh foweba sweepies! Hatchu! Gib munsta-daddeh sowwy-poopies an sowwy hoovsies!”
The small horse-thing turned and aimed his rear at your pant leg. You slid out of the way and his fecal missiles fell to the ground missing any target. The colt charged and slammed his hooves as hard as he could against your shin. It was a feeble attempt and you grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and lifted him in the air.
“Wet smawty guuuu! Bad upsies! NUUU WIKE!!!”
You pulled him close to your face and locked his eyes with yours.
“ I don’t have time for you right now, your name is Croesus because fuck the Lydians.”
He had no idea who the Lydians were and while his mind was trying to process what you said you dropped him on his ass. You might have asked him who his mother was but that was irrelevant. He would not be around for long.
“SCReeeeeeee… huuuuu… smawty hab huwties…huuuuuu”
Alright next was a white pegasus with a gold mane, I had a hunch that he was Agrippina’s kid but it wouldn’t hurt to ask.
“Hey there bud, is your mummah the one with white coat and gray mane?”
“Yuss daddeh, dat am bestest mummah! Fwuffy am bestest babbeh!
Well it looks like you found another “bestest babbeh” although this one wasn’t stamped with smarty approval, probably just his mother’s opinion.
“Well little one your name is going to be Herodotus, and don’t want to hear anymore of that bestest baby talk okay?”
“Otay daddeh, Hewodotus undewstan.”
“That’s a good fluffy”
Last one was a red earthy with a black mane. He knew he was last and once his cohorts had gotten names his excitement was at it’s peak. He was practically shaking by the time you came up to him.
“Well last but not least your name is going to be Darius”
“Weawy! Dawius wuv nyu namsie suuuu much. Be gud fwuffy fo’ daddeh!”
“Alright everyone! You can go back to playing!”
They all cheered and resumed their… well you’re not sure you can call it… activities? Frolicking and dancing and babbling about who knows what. From the corner of your eye you spotted a familiar black and white form striding down the road. It was Doppler, the local feral cat. He was a tuxedo cat with a black head and white blotches on his face that resembled a mustache. You named him Doppler because of how he likes to poke his head out and follow the cars as they went by, the sounds of a passing car being a useful demonstration of the Doppler Effect. He was a chill cat, a loner most of the time but he likes you a lot. You’ve been giving him some food scraps for a while and at that point he was basically your cat. You reached out your hand as he got closer, sniffed it as is custom and headbutted your hand with affection. He took notice of the fluffies and seemed not-so-curious for a cat.
“KITTEH-MUNSTAAAA!!!”
The herd was in a panic, it seemed that either Doppler or another cat had been hunting fluffies.
“CALM DOWN RIGHT NOW”
The fluffies began to settle down, Cyrus came up to you with a stern look on his face.
“Daddeh, dat kitty-munsta huwt fwuffies. Num babbehs, num gud nummies, num Cywus an Tomy-wis own gud cowt… dat am munsta.”
“Look guys this is my cat, he won’t hurt you anymore unless I tell him.”
You were fairly confident about that. You kept him fed when he was around and now that the fluffies were also in the picture he was less likely to snack on them. You would still use some old tricks you learned working at an overnight cat kennel to condition him not to eat any foals without your permission. Hopefully you never had to do that but hey shit happens. The former “bestest babbeh” of the smarty proudly trotted up to you and Doppler, puffing his cheeks out and ready to say something stupid.
“Kitty-munsta get sowwy-poopies an hoofsies!”
Despite you not feeding the herd since they came it seemed he still had more in the tank and let out a chunky spray of feces onto Doppler. Doppler had the reflexes of well… a cat so he only got little on his tail. Definitely enough to piss him off. Doppler hissed at the mini-smarty and clawed him across the muzzle.
“SCREEEEE, nu huwt SMAWTY! BAD KITTY-MUNSTA!”
This was going to get interesting.