Runt Return

>Own a fluffy pegasus mare named BlueJay.
>She's the sweetest thing you ever did see.
>Never disobedient, never forgets what you tell her, and best of all, she's going to have babies!
>Your friends all love BlueJay, and they've agreed to take the babies after they've grown up.
>You're so excited. You got a high class breeder to bring over a stud to do the deed.
>The fluffies become friends instantly.
>Even after the special hugs, they played blocks and hide & seek together for a few hours while you and the breeder played some video games.
>New amigo unlocked.
>It's been two weeks, and BlueJay is ready to have her babies.
>Her legs flail uselessly in the air and you carry her to an old towel you've layed on the ground.
>Time for the miracle of birth.
>Her blue fluff quivers as she strains to push out the first baby.
>After a few minutes of struggling, the baby slides out.
>You catch it and hand it to the mother.
>”Bwoojay wuv babeh!” She tenderly licks the baby clean, then positions it over her now swollen teat, where it suckles milk.
>”Good baybeh, dwink miwk...ahhh!” She starts straining again.
>Another little one comes out. The same routine happens.
>She's only halfway done, though.
>As the two newborns drink their fill, a third comes out.
>”So many baybehs! Bwoojay be happy mumma!”
>She now has three different shades of blue nuzzling her belly.
>She squints her eyes and breaths heavily one last time, then the final baby comes out.
>She doesn't look happy, though.
>”Is smewwy baybeh! Bad baybeh!”
>Uhoh, you worried this could happen.
>As litter size increases, so do the chances of getting a runt.
>Mothers identify runts by their smell, hence their fluffy name of “smelly baby.”
>Luckily, you came prepared.
>Some guy posted a very helpful guide to disguising a runt's smell so that the mother accepts it.
>You go to the bathroom to grab some Old Spice Body Spray.
>Hello, ladies.
>Moving on, as you're walking out of the bathroom you see the mother holding the runt.
>Huh. Maybe she did accept him after all.
>”Yuu no weady yet. Go back in mumma tiww weady.”
>Ready? Go back in-
>She leans over as far as she can without crushing her other babies that are still nuzzling, and pushes the runt back into her fluffy vagina.
>OH GOD WHAT THE FUCK?!
>You drop the spray and run over, trying everything to push the baby back out.
>Squeezing, pressing, nothing's working.
>”Owwie! Why Daddy huwt Bwoojay? Nu huwt! Need wuv baybehs!”
>It's no use. You'll just have to wait for the body to come out on its own.
>Poor little thing.




>Two days later, the momma is snuggling with her babies.
>They're napping, their tiny little hooves moving as they dream of running through fields of grass.
>You wish you could drink this in more, but you're still really freaked out about what the mother did to the runt.
>The body still hasn't come out yet. You're beginning to worry about the risk of infection.
>Suddenly the mother rolls on her back and starts moaning.
>You see a little head poke out between her legs.
>About time. Any longer and you'd have to take her to the vet, and she hates having to go to the-
>You see her grab the runt's body and lick it clean like she did with the others.
>You feel sick.
>Then you see it move.
>It starts chirping, and the mother gives it a warm hug.
>”Baybeh weady now, haf miwk.”
>She places it at her teat, and it starts suckling.
>It's the same size as the others. No signs of injury or anything.
>And it's suckling happily as if nothing happened.
>You pass out.
>”Heehee, siwwy Daddy. Yuu go to Daddy bed fow nappy times!”