The Last of Fluffs: New fluffs on the block 2
>Its dark out by the time the pack heads out, the main road they follow is still as busy at night as it is during the day. “So sweepy, we go beddie soon?” The dogs remain quiet and travel on sniffing and peeing on whatever bush or post they feel like. As the time goes by the night grows colder, the pack stops the biggest of them their alpha or big brother stops and smells the air. He leads them up a small hill past many houses. The fluffy tries his best to keep up but hes unaccustomed to the physical activity. His muscles torn and the fatigue catching up to him, the thought of being left behind is a danger to him so he must keep going.
>He makes the climb and hes met by his sister at the top, who licks his face as he huffs and puffs gasping for breath. Theres more houses around them no safe places or open fences. After a while they press on, moving in the same direction pressing west. As they progress the pack comes across a park, they stop and rest for the night by a tree. Its mid-morning by the time they wake up, the park isn’t anything special, a patch of trees divide the next door church establishing a natural fence, grass all around in one corner a sandy playground for the children with see-saws, rocking horses, and a jungle gym, and a high fence with an open gate that the pack had entered through.
>taking the time to relax before they move on the fluffy grazes on some grass unsure as to why it feels natural to him to eat grass while his brothers and sister don’t do the same. They play a little in the park chasing each other and rolling around. The fluffy finds that his sister seems to be very happy when he crawls on her stomach and tickles her. After a while they get up and begin their journey again. Following their big brother they continue west through a nice looking neighborhood the road is very peaceful and its very quiet. The giant trees creating a canopy and blocking out the sun with their leaves, and the pack passing through stopping to sniff and mark their territory as they pass through
>”Hey! Go on get out of here!” an old man gardening spots the pack and he gets up to grab his hose and chase them off, they casually walk on as if theres no problem with not a single worry to be had.
>Waking up to another day in your herds land, the humans don’t bother you and you don’t bother them as long as they don’t take your food. You don’t care if they take the herds food as long as they don’t touch your flowers. Those are only for you, the best leader the only one who knows how to keep everyone in line. The smartest fluffy ever.
>You leave your safe place and walk outside to see the mothers eating grass the bigger tough fluffies that protect everyone watching for humans and stopping foals from eating your flowers. Life is good, this is how things should be, everyone respects you, after all you are the best fluffy, there is no other fluffy whose better than you. As you walk to your delicious flowers you spot a foal trying to eat a red flower petal that happened to drop from one of YOUR flowers.
>Doesn’t he know that those are yours? That you grew them to be only yours, how dare this little pointy pink foal challenge you for your food, is it showing dominance? No, that’s silly it’s a baby…but it’s a baby who is eating YOUR food, so it must be challenging you and your authority! Why has no toughy stopped this, do they think foals are allowed to do as they please?
>”FWUFFIES! Who am mummah and daddeh of dis wittwe Foaw?” the herd goes quiet and everyone looks on as the foal drools happily on the petal. You sneer at the tiny would be usurper as it plays with your food. “Weader say wong time ago dat nu fwiffie am supposed to eat weadews nummies.” You stare at the little theif as it looks at you with your food in its mouth and lifts its legs for huggies.
>”Heh Fwuffie nu hear mummah ow daddie say dey am missing babbeh, so nu is heawd babbeh? Den why toughies nu stop not heawd babbeh fwom takin Weadews nummies?”
>The toughies look at each other and the closest one to the flowers looks down and covers his face with his hooves in shame. “Ok, so nu fwuffie nu dis babbeh?” The foal opens its mouth and releases the petal “Bigges fwuffie wan pway huggie tag wif babbeh?”
>you walk over to it with a smile bend down as low as you can get and ask “who am you mummah wittwe babbeh?” The foal cheers in excitement and rubs its tiny nose on you. “mummah am big bwoo wingie fwuffie, am bestes mummah!”
>slowly you make your way over to the only blue winged mare in the herd, she sees you coming close and shes afraid, you can smell the scaredy poopies everyone can, and they start to move away. “Fwuffie am sowwy weadew nu can fin babbeh, nu am bad babbeh an nu am bad mummah pwease smawtes fwuffie weadew nu huwties….?
>you stare into her small black eyes, deep down you know shes a good fluffy, and shes sorry and you know that no mare can keep track of their babbehs all the time. so you decide a little forgiveness is in order. “Siwwy fwuffie, weadew nu gif you hewties, nu can hewt good mummah when mummah need to hewp make nummies for hewd. If weadew gif you owwies how am you ‘apposed to gif watew to all hewds nummies?” The mare looks up at you confused, “Bwoo fwuffie wiww be good fwuffie and gif watew to nummies to gwow big and nummy so hewd can haf many happies.”
>”but Weadew, fwuffie mummah nebew gif water to gwassies, and haf babbeh, nu can do bowf…”
>you walk over to the baby who is back to drooling on the petal, liftng it gently by the scruff you walk it back over to its mother. You pass her and rub yourself on her side in a gesture of forgiveness then you stare at the foal, well if she agress to water all the grass then all should be forgiven, that’s a good punishment coming from the bestest smartest fluffy ever, right?
>”Bwoo fwuffie what am you name?” the mare relaxes a bit as she responds, her name is Lady. She must have belonged to a human, how lucky to be with humans. She must have left when she wasn’t allowed to have a baby. Her life must have been terrible with so much pain and suffering wanting children and not being allowed. You know the feeling you after all are the best fluffy, Apollo the greatest fluffy ever.
>you nuzzle the baby, pick it up and place it on its mothers back. “Wady you nee watch babbeh, nu let babbeh touch weadews nummies, an next bwight time you nee gif watew to gwass if you no do dis, you be bad fwuffie an you nevew be in hewd again.”
>As you turn to walk away you see the toughie who is hiding near your nummies, the one who didn’t pay attention, and you walk over to him “You toughie come wif Apawwo nao…”
>The herd goes back to playing, tending the grass and their own food, and the toughies go back to watching everyone. “SCREEEE, NU PWEASE NU MOAW NU AM BAD FWUFFIE PWEASE NU AM BA-HAHAHAHA-AD…huhuhu *chirp*”
>You sit in your den, fluff covered in blood as the former toughie lays on the ground with hunks of fluff laying discarded all around and a piece of his flank missing, you lift your leg and lick the blood off of it as your latest toy tries to crawl away. With little effort, you stand up and sigh, nudge him on to his wounded side, “pwease nu moaw, wan mummah, pwease nu hewties weadew pwease fwuffie wiww be good.”
>you bare a broken smile to this worthless fluffy who didn’t listen to you, “you nu am fwuffie, you nu am babbeh, you mummah nu want you, an smawty apawwo nu want you in hewd. So if no fwuffie want you…you am twash.” You place your front hooves on his head and push him into the dirt. Edging yourself closer to his ear you whisper as softly as possible “you…no am awwowed to be awive… you am bad babbeh when you am foaw and am bad fwuffie nao, you daddeh nebew love you, and I towd you mummah when you was babbeh if you gwow into bad fwuffie, you be dead babbeh…. So bye bye bad babbeh…”
>And with that you end your only sons life, his tears stopped, his breathing slowed, and you couldn’t hear his last words. You sit back and you take a moment to breathe and let this entire moment pass by. You need to make sure things get done correctly this time, you need a new child at some point, hopefully one that doesn’t end up a failure like the last 3. However theres more important things to take care of, that mare and her child…
>After some thought you've set your priorities strait and you know what must be done. Tonight you’ll eat that foal… its only fair that its mummahs attention shouldn’t be divided from her new task. She was a bad mummah for not listening to her human, leaving her nice home and her good owner just to have a baby… that’s the sign of a bad fluffy…fluffies are always supposed to listen to their humans, or they become bad fluffies… isn’t that right Doctor Grahm?