Brewing Spirits
> In a white meadow covered with windswept snow sits a mighty tree
> Barren and cold only icicles hang from the branches
> Buried in burrows fluffies slumber in partial hibernation
> Adults with their full winter coats sleep soundly beneath layers of fluff, fat, and companionship
> Single mares born earlier this year aren't as lucky
> Their winter coats are only just starting to come in
> Though their foals cuddle with them the whiny squirming fluffies do little to help their mother sleep
> "Mummah... hungee... tummee huwtie... mummmaahhhh..."
> Constantly waking up mares with foals can do nothing for their children
> "Jus sweep bebbehs.. *yawn* Nuu nummies yet... tuu cowd..."
> Without thick coats or adult companions to warm one another mares and young fluffies tremble in their icy homes
> Young colts and fillies won't survive the winter without large fat reserves
> Most of whom didn't bother to gorge themselves instead playing in the "pwetty weaffies"
> Now they regret with all their aching bodies
> Emaciated fluffies in desperation try to dig out of the snow blocked burrows seeking food
> Colts, fillies, lonely adults all long for the outside world
> Those that aren't crushed or suffocated beneath a wall of snow find the outside as barren as their stomachs
> With no visible landmarks, save the tree above them, the fluffies try to return to their burrows
> Many are trapped outside when snow collapses behind them
> Unable to return to the relative warmth of their burrows
> They shiver and slowly fade in the face of icy winds and blanketing snow
> Others are struck down by falling icicles or buried by falling snow
> Their tree friend provides no protection
> Those that don't escape their burrows to a slow cold death face starvation
> With no food reserves to share from earlier this year nearly all the fluffies born in Autumn die
> Desperate mothers, fathers, and siblings consume their fallen kin
> Choking back bites as they fight back tears
> Constantly mewling for forgiveness though disgusted mouthfuls
> The cat however sits happily in his hollow covered with fluffy carcasses
> He snuggles the warm fluff as he occasionally goes down into the white landscape to pick up another corpse for a winter snack
> In the largest burrow beneath the tree sits a lone fluffy
> Gray fluff sits in the food storage
> For nearly six years he has watched over this herd
> With the silly nummies all gone along with most of their reserves the herd starves
> He can hear their mewling and begging, but can do nothing
> Even with his slim diet and warm burrow there isn't enough food for him let alone a herd
> He sobs alone in his small hole behind a false bark wall
> All of his friends taken by the summer downpour and ensuing chaos
> The last gray fluffy slowly wastes away as he begs the tree, sky, ground, sun, moon, and all other forces of fluffy nature to help
> His prayers go unanswered
> In one final desperate attempt he sets out to find any surviving fluffies
> His weak arthritic bones tremble as he searches out survivors in the snow
> Wispy fluff floats in the biting cold as his body is exposed to freezing temperatures
> Yet through herculean effort he finds survivors
> Gathering stragglers outside and fluffies in burrows he manages to find a quarter of his herd
> The rest are either dead or still clinging to life in their shallow graves
> Gathering in the great burrow once used to store food the surviving fluffies pile up
> Gray fluff at the center surrounded by his children
> They all desperately hug and cuddle to keep the cold at bay
> Even after the entrance is filled with snow and the winds stop nipping at the pile they are freezing
> Energy once provided by food stores to keep their body temperatures warm is unavailable
> And fat reserves are used up within another week
> Gradually the mewling from hunger, cold, sickness, and pain fades away
> A barely surviving fluff pile begins to go cold
> From the outside in fluffies die leaving only corpses to warm their children and friends
> Illness spreads rapidly and the already weak fluffies succumb one by one to the cold , hunger, and sickness
> For weeks the fluffies have gone without food
> The pile doesn't engage in cannibalism still trying to outlast the cold
> At the center of the pile Buzzy and Rosy hug their only surviving child
> Before him, his oldest father and friend watches despondently
> No words have been spoken by this herd for nearly a week
> All of the fluffies too tired to speak or even mewl unhappily
> They simply lie in a motionless pile
> Soon Rosy silently slips away
> The first words spoken are soft and sorrowful
> "Wowsee... wowsee.. nuu... Wowsee... Buzzie wuv ouu.... nuu... pwease wakies... Wowsy..."
> Overcome with sadness Buzzy draws the foal beneath his stomach cradling the frail child in his legs
> Protecting the small malnourished fluffy with his whole body he sobs
> As tears stream down his face he trembles at the cold now penetrating his body
> In his final act of love he dies trying to keep his only living child alive
> The cold seeps in around the small filly
> Fatherly fluff doesn't stay warm long and soon he is as cold as the rest of the fluffies
> Her whole body aches with hunger and pain
> She has long since lost the energy to shiver only occasionally peeping quietly for daddy and mommy
> With one last movement she takes a shallow sniff of her father and smiles
> As tears roll down her face she too goes limp still embracing a father that gave everything in vain
> Surrounded by his herd all silently embracing one another the last gray fluffy lays motionless
> His friends, children, their children all lie still in the silent hollow beneath the tree
> All of them asleep forever
> As the only surviving fluff lays in the center of this mass grave he begins to think
> About what could have been
> About how he could have saved everyone
> About his wife Wingie that he gave for the herd
> About his brother Bark who was taken from him
> About his old friends swallowed up by the watery meadow
> About his favorite son Buzzy and his wife Rosy who gave their lives in vain
> And about the frail little hope beneath Buzzy that was slowly snuffed out
> Tears have long since stopped flowing from this old body
> Hooves damaged from exposure and exposed frost bitten skin stings his withered body
> For what seems like an eternity he lay in the wooden crypt surrounded by former friends and family
> Then the cold slowly reaches his body
> Thin gray fluff offers no protection
> The thin skin is pierced by the icy knives of winter
> To the very bone his is chilled
> And as his heart gradually slows
> And his mind wanders off
> He slowly breathes his last
> His eyes widen as the realization of death reaches him
> With no heartbeat in his body
> Tree slowly closes his eyes for the last time