Where Fluffy Bodies Lie
By @Za
Chapter Two:
Identity
You are Smarty Strong Branch.
You couldn’t remember how many bright times had passed since you killed Shaw. You remembered very little of that fight during the bright time, honestly. Dark times were when the memories came back to you. Thoughts of that big coat he wore, made from the skin and fluff of your friends and family. Images of his face, his see-places wide in surprise at the realization that his victory had been taken from him, his mouth pooling with blood, shattered teeth, and torn flesh as he drowned with his last gasps of life. The memories of the death and destruction the humans brought with them everywhere they went. The desperate pleading and pitiful screams that went unheard as he crushed your mummah beneath his boot, blew a hole in Fast Hoofsie’s head, and nailed your little brother to a tree. It all made you feel sickies.
You thought you could begin to move on now that he was gone. Instead, you found yourself staring off into the field for several forevers at a time. Would your herd ever recover? Almost all of the original members of your herd were dead. Many of the new fluffies were hard workers, but were just too soft. They couldn’t handle a boo-boo without a huu-huu, like your daddeh always used to say. Your daddeh was a smart fluffy. You hoped he was proud of you up there.
“Daddeh?”
You looked down to see your adoptive daughter, the dummeh-leggied filly you brought home from Shaw’s housie, tugging at your leggie fluff with her mouth.
You replied to her, “Yes babbeh?” The way she looked at you with her sparkly purple eyes always brought your guard down. Her gaze was so familiar in a way you just couldn’t place. She couldn’t do much around the camp, but she was so smart. You knew she would be a great smarty when you were gone.
“What am daddeh makin thinkies about?” she asked as you hoisted her onto your back by the scruff of her neck. You knew she couldn’t possibly understand the bad thoughts you were grappling with. Even if she could, she was your daughter. You wouldn’t let her see you show weakness. Especially not today. Today was the day she was to be named. She was one of the last to receive a name. Some of the fluffies you rescued, mostly the ones raised by humans, already had names. The ones that didn’t, though, had their names assigned by the smarties. Right now, of course, that was just you. Picking new smarties was something you would have to think about for a while. You wanted to see which fluffies in your herd were the most worthy.
Your daughter gently tapped you, snapping you back to reality. “What am daddeh makin thinkies about?” she asked again. You surveyed the field. The bright time was almost over, so it was almost time for the… ceremony, you seemed to remember it was called. “Daddeh nu am makin thinkies about nuffin, babbeh,” you lied. What she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her. With your daughter in tow, you trotted over to the stump in the center of the field where fluffies were already beginning to gather in anticipation. Ceremonies usually meant good food, the kinds of food you saved for special occasions. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t be the case this time. The herd was still struggling to get back on its hooves after the hunt, so everyone would have to settle for flowers and berries like usual. Well, not your daughter. You were saving a special treat you found for her back in your nestie. It wasn’t much, just one little Twinkie cake. You hoped she would enjoy it though.
The herd decorators were hard at work dressing your daughter up for the special occasion. They adorned her with shiny bits, birdie feathers, and flowers. She looked very pretty, and you felt your chest swell with pride to see her fancied up just like you were when your father named you.
As the bright ball set, the crowd began to cheer loudly. They gathered around you and your daughter, making her visibly shy. You sat beside her, holding her close as the cheering continued to erupt from all around. You held up a hoof to silence the crowd, and they obeyed. “Fwuffies,” you began, “dis dawk time am speshuw dawk time. Dis am dawk time fow smawty babbeh to get nyu namesie.” Your daughter looked up excitedly at you as the crowd erupted once again. “Da wowstest bwite times am behind da hewd, it am time fow fwuffies to make bestest nyu bwite times!” The crowd was going absolutely nuts, stomping their hooves so hard you could feel the ground shaking.
“Babbeh am gon be nyu smawty when smawty gu fowebah sweepies,” you said. “Babbeh am bestest babbeh and gon be bestest smawty!”
The crowd grew more quiet as their tiny minds began mulling over the concept that even their all-powerful smarty would die some day.
“But fiwstest, babbeh nee namesie! Babbeh nee…” you trailed off. What was that word your father used? Oh right, identity. “Babbeh nee idennadee!” You dipped your hoof into some awaiting color juice (which you now knew was just mushed-up berries and water), making some ornate markings into your daughter’s face fluff. She was a beautiful filly, pink like a cloud when the bright ball went down. Unfortunately, “sky when the bright ball goes down” doesn’t roll off the tongue. What was that word the old smarties used to use for that? Oh yeah.
“Babbeh nyu namesie am… SUNSET SKY!”
The herd exploded into festivities, galloping towards you to smother you and Sunset Sky into a big huggie pile.
There were plenty of festivities to be had that dark time. Lots of nummies, lots of huggies… it was great. Cookie, one of your new toughies, even found some string. Against your better judgment, you let them play “Pin the Tail on No-Tail.” At least until Salisbury ended up with his snout up No-Tail’s poopie place by accident. Everyone seemed happy by the end of the night, though. Well, not Salisbury. He almost drowned washing the poopies off his snout. He didn’t seem very happy at all.
As you settled into your nestie to get ready for sleepies, you licked your front hooves clean of all the berry juice and dirt from the festivities. Sunset Sky munched happily on her Twinkie cake, snuggled up into your side and cooing. You were moments away from drifting off into a dream, the first one you’d been looking forward to since everything had happened…
“Daddeh?”
You yawned, stretching your front leggies towards the sky as you pulled your daughter closer. “Yes babbeh?” you replied. She looked up at you with sad, curious eyes. “Did nyu daddeh know fiwst daddeh?”
You figured this day would come. She finally wanted to know what happened to her real daddeh. That was a question you didn’t know the answer to, though. You had no clue who her father was. None of the fluffies you’d rescued from Shaw’s cabin ever claimed her.
“Stwong Bwanch nu know, babbeh,” you told her. She looked disheartened. Maybe you could help refresh her memory. “What do babbeh membah about fiwst daddeh?” you asked her. She looked around thoughtfully, as if scrutinizing every detail of the hollowed-out tree and the straw bedding that adorned it.
“Babbeh membah meanie mistah Shaw teww babbeh dat babbeh nu get huwties if babbeh daddeh nu make meanie Shaw maddies,” she recited slowly, pulling the conversation from a deep part of her mind. It was probably hard for her to remember, since she would’ve been too little then. You held her close as she continued, “Shaw teww daddeh he was bad fwuffy, an Shaw gave babbeh mummah fowebah sweepies cuz daddeh nu was gud fwuffy.” You felt your eyes begin to well with tears. Your poor babbeh had been through so much. It gave you some of the worstest heart hurties you’d ever felt, but you felt glad knowing Shaw could never hurt her like that again.
“Babbeh think,” she pondered, yawning, “Shaw say daddeh name was… Seevah.”
Your heart stopped.
Seether. That was Fast Hoofsie’s before-herd name.
Sunset Sky was Fast Hoofsie’s daughter.
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