"Fluffy Research" 13/?

"Fluffy Research"

13/?

>You are Dylan, a freelance researcher, mid 20’s, brown hair, lazy attitude and you’re a complete nerd.

>You just got hired by the WWF to study a new type of “animal” that's becoming a problem worldwide.

>They call it a "Fluffy pony"

>you’ve never heard of such a thing and took the case out of curiosity.

>Man was that a stupid idea, you had no idea working with them would be this hard.

 

>You look at the thermometer again, it still shows -40*F, any fool stuck outside today is sure to freeze his rear end off in an instant.

>It’d be even worse for a fluffy, their fluff might be thick to the touch, but it’s not that good at keeping the cold out, making -40*F lethal to any fluffy in such temperatures.

>The herd knows this to some extent thankfully, Purple set two stallions up as guards by the cave entrance to make sure fluffies only went out shortly to do their dirty business only.

>You’d guess some fluffy most probably got lost and froze to death during Purple’s reign over the herd, Fluffies aren’t known for their foresight or knowledge of the elements.

>Still, the herd is doing fine all things considered, they have some food stored in the back, fresh water and a warm cave, still though if this storm lasts any longer some foal will die.

>The last dams popped earlier this evening while you weren’t looking, the foal’s future isn’t looking bright at all, they’re undernourished due to the harsh conditions, the foals are half the size they should be and their mothers are struggling to produce any milk at all.

>Of course, the herd does its best to help out; Aurora and Plum have stopped feeding their young for a while to lend their milk to the frail foals instead.

>The heart of a fluffy mother is one of the kindest things on this earth, but it can be too big at times as well, a fluffy mother will always feed all her young even if she hardly has any milk while a mother of most other species would focus on fewer foals/pups and leave the thinnest and weakest ones to die.

>This though is unheard off in a fluffy, a troublesome though indeed.

>As you sit there, a beautiful blue Pegasus with a yellow mane comes into view, slowly pushing its starved frail body slowly along the cave floor towards a fluffy mother and her teats; it’s clearly getting weaker by the minute, each push weaker than the last.

>The other fluffies in the herd walk right by it, completely missing the small struggling blue Pegasus on the cave floor; they’re too busy with their own problems.

>You’ve noticed the signs for a short while the last week, the herd’s behavior is changing to adapt to their new conditions, their “hardwired” share instinct is fading rapidly with the dwindling food supplies.

>The foal tries it’s best to speak, but nothing but a faint wheeze comes out, it’s clearly starved and thirsty, this foal didn’t get enough sustenance in the womb at all.

>You just sit there watching the foal as it pushes one last time before falling limp, mere inches from its mother.

>”B…babbeh? Nu sweepeie time nao, iz nummies time, mummah gif miwkies!” You hear the mother say as she notices her blue Pegasus foal, her voice calm and controlled. She doesn’t know the foals dead yet.

>”Dis nu fun game! Babbeh nu sweepies! Iz nummies time nao! Come to mummah!” she continues as she carefully stands up on her feet, looking at the foal with a stern face.

>”Why babbeh nu come to mummah? Why babbeh mean? Wha mummah do?” The mother pleads the lifeless foal as she gently walks up to it, her living foals snuggled deep in the fluff on her back

>”Dis nu fun game!! Babbeh come nao! Dummy babbeh, come wi’ mummah!” You watch the mother shout to the foal before walking up to it and shacking it with her nose, the second the mothers nose touched the foals lifeless body, any happiness or anger in the mother is instantly replaced by fear and grief.

>”B…b… Babbeh?”  The mother manages to mutter as the gravity of the situation hits her hard.

>You sit there and watch as the mare ignores her living foals and just collapses on the ground, sulking as she hugs her deceased foal, trying her best to hug the “hurties” away.

>These scenes are the worst part of studying fluffies in general, the death of a fluffy might seem great or good to some people in the world, but those seem to forget the simple fact that Feral fluffies are smarter than they think, Domestic ones however fall behind in that department.

>It’s simple really, Feral ones have to learn more stuff to stay alive while adapting to the climate they live in while Domestic ones don’t have to at all, they have everything they need right off the bat, feral fluffies begin the never ending struggle the second they slither out of their mother’s womb.

>Your chain of thought is cut short by a low pitched noise gently seeping out of your loudspeakers filling the room slowly, you just sit and listen, the words and sentences getting clearer  and clearer until you faintly manage to puzzle the noise together in your head.

>”M…Mummah so sowwy babbeh nu hewe, so sowwy babbeh nu pway.

>Mummah so sowwy babbeh nu dwink, mummah so sowwy babbeh ny hewe”

>This scene of sheer and utter guilt clearly shows how devoted these newfound mothers are to their foals, this one sadly slipped between the cracks and paid a heavy price for it all for nothing.

>The other newfound mothers and mares in the herd have picked up on the mother’s crying and are doing their best at cheering her up, but as always the only thing most fluffies know in terms of comfort are hugs and more hugs.

>The idea is kind and good, but the hugs only help with small injuries like a fall, bruised torso and so on, large injuries and problems can’t be fixed by simple hugs.

>On the other hand, the hugs clearly show the kindness to be found in the heart of most fluffies, they’re not bad little things; bad choices and decisions often make them the sour bossy things most people see them as.

>Unsure what to do at the moment you just sit there in your chair and watch the scene on the screens, the mother crying, the mares hugging her and the stallions hiding in the back terrified and completely unsure what to do.

>As you sit there watching Aurora gently walks up to the crying mare and sits down just in front of her, she sits there looking at the mare with sad teary eyes for a while before she speaks up getting the mothers attention.

>”Am sowwy babbeh nu ge’ haf miwkies an huggies. Babbehs aww haf miwkies and huggies, da’ gu fo babbeh. Bu mummah nu be ba mummah. Mummah ju foget babbeh. Sun kno’ woosin babbeh gif bi’ huwties inside, nu fun! Nu faiw! Bu som babbehs nu wiwe, dey go tu bettah pwace wi nummies, pway and fwens so dey nu haf saddies nu mo’” She tells the mother before she hugs her tightly.

>You can’t help it and shed a tear; this fluffy stuff is really getting to you, softening your heart a tad too much.

>Huh, the mare you called Aurora’s name is actually Sun? The name might not fit her fluff at all, but the name really fits her personality.

>Now however you have another issue, the food you’re hiding out for them just isn’t enough apparently, sure these mares gave birth to undernourished foals and that a big problem for them, but you’ve also been noticing a few of the quieter members of the herd getting thinner and thinner.

>These dams and some of the others eat too much when food is available to them all; dams get really demanding and hungry when they’re pregnant just like humans.

>Purple has to deal with this at some point this winter, the problem is that the outcome won’t be good for a huge part of the herd, mothers would quickly start getting short on milk for their foals and the fluffies dumb enough to get pregnant during or before winter might very well end up starving, killing themselves or the foals inside them in the process.

>This winter will be harsh for all involved up here on the mountain that’s for sure.