Can't have just one

>"NUUUUU!!!! NU HUWT BABEH! NU! NOOOO!!!" the fluffy mamma screams in agony.

>You snatch the foal from her.

>The baby screams and squirm in your hand.

>It has never left its comfort zone of fluff before.

>"I'm sorry." you say to the mother.

>The mother is confused.

>You twist the baby's neck and consume the flesh.

>While the act was brief, the baby was in agony for what can only be described as an eternity.

>You spit out the remains, bones left over fluff.

>The mother doesn't scream or move.

>She is in pure shock.

>So much so, she doesn't react when you pick her up and throw her against the dark alley wall.

>You devour her corpse as well.

>You exit the alleyway, drenched in blood in the dead of night.

 

>It was awful.

>You were stranded on an island after a plane crash.

>You were a lone pilot, transporting fluffy pony cargo to Asia when you crashed somewhere in the Pacific.

>All you had to eat were fluffy ponies.

>But you didn't want to. Pickings were slim on that island. You praised God when you found safe drinking water on that island.

>You were rescued a month later.

>You made an excuse of the ponies going feral, warring with each other, ultimately killing each other off, but the rescue team knew their true demise.

>You have not integrated back into society.

>You still crave fluffy flesh.

>Sure, you go for ferals and strays, but how long can it last?

>It's been a year. It has to stop sometime.

>But the stomach wants what it wants.

>Fluffy ponies are a lot like Lays Potato Chips.

>You can't have just one.