VALENTINE
A Pegasus Story
Chapter Eight – Belonging
It was a cool January evening. There were no clouds in the sky, but it seemed as though the sun added no warmth. The thick bed of pine needles covering the ground was all that protected Valentine’s leathery hooves as she ran through the woods.
“Wun, weggies! Wun! Nu wan be enfie fwuffy fo meanie munstah daddeh!”
Tears streamed down the pegasus’ cheeks as images flashed through her simple mind—a giant no-no stick ravaging a green pointy-baby, a white no-facie-pointy-baby with no leggies, a yellow-maned woman giving her sorry-hoofies with her not-hooves, and the darkness of her own see-place lids as her own daddy gave her bad special huggies.
The world was a cruel place.
Valentine ran and ran, until she collapsed in a pile of pine straw on a hillside. She had run for so long that the blood that trickled out of her special place had dried there, a reminder of the horrible incident back at the trailer.
“Fwuffy-mummah nu wuv Vawentine…wotsa mummahs an daddehs at fwuffy stowe wun way fwom Vawentine…mummah-mummah gif wowsest huwties, an mummah an daddeh weave Vawentine…daddeh Dafit gif bad speshuw huggies…huu huu, nu one wuv Vawentine…”
The broken mare sobbed into her fluff and the pine needles. She had never known love—not for long anyway. Her life was a consistent string of pain and heartbreak, from the time she was pulled away from her no-leggy not-mummah.
“Am wowsest fwuffy evah. Nu am Vawentine nu mowe…am dummeh fwuffy.”
She cried more tears of desolation as she passed out in the forest. All around her went black.
The pink pegasus awakened to the sounds of birds chirping in the branches of the tall southern pines. A bright red cardinal hopped along the ground a few feet away from her, occasionally picking at the ground for the odd winter morsel. It flew away when the fluffy pony stretched out her wings and leggies.
The fluffy yawned as she stretched, and then collapsed to the ground again. Her whole body ached from the previous day’s escape from the trailer. Worse than that, she still had heart-hurties from the realization that no one would ever love her.
Her tummy-owwies eventually caught up with her heart-hurties, and she began to scavenge for food. Occasionally she turned over enough pine straw to find a grass shoot or a sapling poking through the dirt. But she mostly had to settle for unsatisfying dead leaves from the few deciduous trees to fill her belly.
She began to num a few tender blades of grass when she smelled a familiar, though distant, scent over on the next hill. She slowly crept towards the source of the odor when she heard a voice call out.
color=ffffff] “Dummeh poopie-fwuffy, nu num aww hewd nummies. Hewd nu haf wotsa nummies weft!”[/color]
“Huu huu…am sowwy, smawty-fwend.”
The first fluffy—the smarty-friend—kept shouting at the other fluffy, and the pink pegasus stopped in her tracks. Did she really want to risk another rejection? And then another thought crossed her mind that made her shudder.
Aww smawties am wowsest fwuffies…aww smawties nee haf wowsest huwties an foweva sweepies…
Her trainer’s words returned to her just as readily as the images of the obliterated green foal he had impaled with his no-no stick. Smarties tried to hurt other fluffies. They took all the food and toys and huggies all for themselves. They even tried to hurt humans!
“Nu wan wive wif smawty fwuffy. Bu Va—wingie-fwuffy nu fin nuff nummies tu make tummeh-owwies gu way.” She decided to stay put. If the smarty and his herd came over the hill and found her, she would try to join the herd. Getting forever sleepies from other fluffies didn’t seem as bad as always being lonely and hungry.
She sat on her rump, listening to the chattering of fluffies as the herd moved closer and closer. Finally, she saw a light blue earthie peeking over the hillside.
“Smawty! Dewe am ‘nuva fwuffy dewe!” The blue stallion shuffled down the hill towards the pink pegasus. “Hewwo, wingie-fwuffy. Dis am hewd wand! Yu aww ‘wone?”
The pink fluffy nodded her head. She was too afraid to speak—was this the end? Was the herd going to give her worsest stompies and forever sleepies?
The rest of the herd came down the hillside. There were more fluffies than the winged mare could count! Turning to his smarty, the scout said, “Dis fwuffy am aww awone, smawty.”
“Smawty see dat, dummeh!” The smarty cocked his head as he looked at the pegasus. “Hewd nu haf wingie-fwuffies. Wha’chu doin’ in hewd wand, wingie-fwuff?”
“Fwuffy wun way fwom munstah daddeh. Meanie munsta gif fwuffy wowsest huwties.”
The herd “ooooohed” at the pegasus’ words, and then began chattering nervously about the “munstah” she described.
“Shaddup, dummehs! Hewd nu gu dat way. Hmmmmmm…” The smarty regarded the mare, his green mane blowing gently with the wind. “Cowd times stiww comin’. Wingie fwuff wan join hewd? Hewd need aww mawes can get!”
The pink pegasus’ eyes widened. Smawty wan dummeh wingie fwuffy join hewd? Dis am bestest day evah! She fluttered her wings.
“Yus, smawty! Fwuffy wiww join hewd!”
The fluffies all cheered. Several of them shuffled forward to give their new “wingie-friend” huggies. Finally, the pegasus felt like she was somewhere she belonged.
“SHADDUP! Wingie-mawe nee’ du one mowe fing fo Smawty. Gif smawty gud feews.”
The mare gasped, and took a couple of steps back. Good feels meant…special huggies! She didn’t want special huggies from the smarty—he wasn’t her special friend!
“Nu am suwe…nu wan speshuw huggies.”
The smarty glared. He looked at two of his toughies, who stood at his flanks. “Howd dummeh wingie fwuffy fo’ Smawty.”
A red earthie stallion and a green unicorn stepped forward. The pegasus tried to turn and run, but the toughies were already upon her.
“Nuuuuuu! Nu wan!”
The white unicorn didn’t listen. He stepped forward and mounted the prostrate mare. His no-no stick entered her special place with ease.
“Haff-haff-haff…why nu feew good—dummeh mawe!” The smarty whacked her on the shoulders between her wings. Each toughie hoofed her on the nose.
“Dewe! ENF! ENF! ENF!”
By this point, the pegasus had given up. She stopped screaming and continued to sob quietly.
“ENF! ENF! ENF! GUUUUUD FEEEEEEWS!”
The stallion dismounted, having finished the deed. The pink fluffy could feel his no-no juice running out of her, mixed with her own blood. She continued to lay on the ground even after the toughies stepped away from her. The smarty trotted in front of her face and looked her in the eyes.
“Dummeh wingie-mawe. Yu pawt of Smawty’s hewd nao. Yu du what Smawty teww yu, ow get wowsest owwies.”
He turned his tail and shat in her face, declared her a “poopie-fluffy”, and then walked over to the rest of the herd.
“Hewd nee’ nyu safe pwace. Skowt teww Smawty dewe am pwace ova dat way.”
He pointed a hoof off to the west, and ordered his four toughies to round up the herd and get them moving. The red earthie grabbed the pink pegasus by her mane and lifted her up so that she was standing.
“Moof, dummeh.” The stallion gave her a hoof on her sore rump. She shuffled forward with the rest of the herd. Several attendant mares trailed behind, rolling bloated dams. The sun, which again gave no warmth to the day, rose high in the sky.
Several days passed. The herd had found a rocky outcropping at the edge of a farm under which they formed their fluffpile at night. The pegasus was forced to the outside edge of the fluffpile, which meant restless nights as she tossed and turned to get warm.
The scouts brought nummies to the herd each day—mostly wild onions and dandelions found on the nearby farm. The scout who first discovered the pink pegasus died, shot by the farmer (who kept a deer rifle handy in case some “critter” or another wandered by to nibble his perennials).
The pegasus, reduced to the rank of “poopie fluffy”, settled for dried leaves and the castings of other fluffies. She hated it, but knew that she had no hope of getting the smelly-nummies and flower-nummies the scouts brought back. And so, she made do.
She wandered from the fluffpile on her fifth morning with the herd to num some leaves when, all of a sudden, she felt a strange feeling in her tummy.
“Bu-whuuuaaa? Nu, tummeh, nu get sickie—BLEEAAAGHH!”
The beleaguered pony tried to cover up her sickies-water under the leaves when a yellow earthie mare walked over. The pegasus knew her to be one of the attendants to a green earthie mare who would likely give birth in the next few days.
“What doin’, wingie fwuff?”[ the yellow mare asked kindly. “What dat? Yu make sickies-wawa?”
“Uh-uh-uh…yus, fwuffy haf tummeh sickies.”
The earthie shook her head. “Num poopies, an’ fwuffies haf sickies.” She walked over beside the pink mare and nuzzled her belly. Then, she jumped back, startled.
“Fwuffy haf babbehs in fwuffy tummeh! Fwuffy gon’ haf babbehs!”
Confused, the pegasus sat back on her rump and stared at her belly. Babies? She remembered wanting babies at one time, but her daddeh ran away because he didn’t love her anymore—wasn’t that because she had wanted babies?
The realization came to her. “Nu teww smawty, uwfie-fwend! Nu wan hewd tu wun way fwom fwuffy!”
But the yellow mare was already halfway back to the fluffpile. “Wingie-fwuff gon’ haf babbehs! Smawty wiww be su ‘cited!” She galloped along cheerfully.
A single tear ran down her cheek. There was no avoiding the facts—she would soon be all alone again. The herd would run away from her, just as her fluffy mummah and all of her human mummahs and daddehs had. She cowered and covered her eyes when the smarty approached with his red and green toughies.
“Wingie-fwuffy am soon-mummah? Gon haf babbehs?”
There was no point in denying what the yellow earthie had told him. She nodded her head.
The smarty walked over to the pegasus’ side. He reached his head down and put his nose against her belly. A little kick confirmed his suspicions.
“Wingie-fwuffy come wif Smawty. Gon’ num gud nummies fo make gud babbehs fo hewd. Sweep wif udda soon-mummahs in fwuffpiwe.”
Overjoyed, the pink pegasus jumped up and trotted behind the smarty. As she shuffled along, she sang a song she remembered hearing many forevers ago:
“Am soon-mummah, am soon-mummah! Gon’ haf bestest miwkies fo bestest babbehs!”
Three days later, the herd awakened to the sound of one of the soon-mummahs screaming.
“SCREEEEEEE! BIGGEST POOPIES!”
“Nu, fwuffy, nu make poopies in fwuffpiwe!”, the pegasus cried. But the green mare made her poopies anyway.
“Nu, dummeh! Dat mean babbehs comin’!”
The pegasus was excited. Babies were for huggies and love! At least, that’s what she had heard. And now that she knew that the herd wanted babies, it made her happy that she would be having babies, too.
The green earthie birthed four foals. One of them was green, like her mother, but the other three were poopie-brown.
“Babbehs! Mummah am su happeh. Wiww gif aww babbehs miwkies an huggies an wuv!” The green filly nursed at one teat, while her brown brother nursed at the other. The green dam cradled the two poopie fillies between her front hooves.
“Mummah nu cawe dat yu am poopie-cowow. Mummah stiww wuv ‘oo.”
The smarty trotted up at that moment. “Fankoo fo haf babbehs fo hewd.”
The dam, who had been lost in her own thoughts until that moment snapped to attention. Tears formed in her eyes. The confused pink pegasus looked on.
“Now, chuse one babbeh.”
“Pwease, smawty, nu take mummah’s babbehs! Mummah wuvs aww babbehs—an babbehs nee miwkies an huggies an wuv!”
The smarty shook his head. “Nu, dummeh mawe. Aww babbehs am hewd babbehs. An cowd time wiww be fo wong time. Nu haf nuff nummies fo hewd. Gif babbehs tu smawty.”
The green earthie screamed and protested as the smarty picked up the green baby from the ground. The little foal chirped in fear.
“Nuuuuuuu! Bestest babbeh!” The mare tried to bite the smarty, dropping her chirping, distressed foals in the process. All that earned her was sorry hoofies from the toughies.
chirp**chirp The tiny, blind foal could do nothing but feebly scramble its legs under the white unicorn’s hoof. The smarty then reached down with his mouth open, and grabbed the chirping foal by its head.
“Nuuuuuuu! Babbehs nu am nummies! Nu am nummies!”
The smarty yanked his head upwards, spraying the baleful mummah with her foal’s blood. The unicorn chewed, swallowing the baby’s head and spine. The dam—held down by the red and green toughies—continued to scream.
“SHADDUP, dummeh! Cowd times bad fow aww fwuffies. Fwuffies nee num what fwuffies can.”
As the smarty shook his green mane and turned to walk away, the pink pegasus merely stared in horror, wings stiffened by the shock of the gory episode she had just witnessed. The yellow attendant stepped forward and licked the remaining blood off of the ground.
Was this the fate that awaited her babies? She covered her tummy with her front hooves, and sat in silence.