Herding 1

Herding 1
> In a small plot of land on the outskirts of suburbia sits a picturesque farm
> On the edge of the property is a grassy acre meant for horses
> Closest to the house on the edge of the field lies a chicken coop and a small shed
> From within small adorable snores are heard
> A thin man with jeans, a white t-shirt, and a pair of filthy boots opens the small vertical door on the shed
> "Good morning little guys, time to eat"
> Soft morning light floods into the dark room illuminating a rather large pile of colorful blobs who mewl groggily
> With several adorable little yawns and sleepy eyes they emerge from the padded shed into the early morning light
> Soft hooves trod on the stained quilting past their large litter box and water supply into the doorway
> Two at a time they waddle out
> One trips on the wooden ramp squealing and rolling around
> "HEWP! HUWTIES! OWIES! OWWWIEEESSS!"
> The farmer picks up the squealing fluffy and examines the wound
> A bruise is already forming on the left eye and splinters are on it's cheek
> Breathing a sigh the farmer retrieves a pair of tweezers from his back pocket
> "I swear, this happens every day..."
> He's right, well every other day, but it's practically a morning routine for this poor fluffy
> One by one he plucks the large splinters from the whining and wiggling fluffy
> "Hold still, I'm taking the pain away..."
> "owies! owies! Nuu wike! owies!"
> With a bleeding cheek and swollen eye the fluffy is set down amid already hugging fluffies
> "Fwiend huwties, haff owchies, huggies make bettaw..."
> The herd hugs the wounded friend till he stops crying
> While this happens the farmer opens his chicken coop and begins to pick out eggs
> Like every morning the chickens quickly spread out
> Causing curious fluffies to try and hug their feathered friends
> Pegasus especially love the chicken friends
> Unlike fluffies however, chickens don't take well to hugs
> Several pecks later and a half dozen crying fluffies flee from their neighbors
> You would think they'd learn after two weeks of this
> Dams are rolled into the nearby acre of grass and begin grazing while foals play around them
> Large trees hang over the nearby pond which a few fluffies drink bravely from
> It's a fairly idyllic life for fluffies
> The wooden fence is lined with chicken wire to keep fluffies in and most critters out
> Grass, flowers, a safe fence, water, and all the special hugs they could want
> Feisty chickens aside the place is wonderful
> "Fwiends! Smawty gon take hewd way fwom dummy hoomin!"
> Well, wonderful for most fluffies
> These fluffies were born on the farm, but some were picked up as ferals in the surrounding area
> They still long for human food and the legendary spaghetti, which the farmer makes none of
> "Dummy hoomin nuu haff good nummies! Ownwy dummeh gwassies an fwowwows!"
> A large pink and green unicorn shouts to the gathered young fluffies all only a few weeks old
> The rest ignore him munching on long strands of grass and various weeds
> With eggs collected and placed in a crate for transport the thin farmer turns to see the commotion
> "Ey! You better shut your mouth, bad fluffies want to leave!"
> The stallion is undeterred
> He even steps towards the thin man and puffs his cheeks
> "Dummy! Fwuffy duu wha fwuffy wan!"
> *phhhhhhhhhhhhht*
> Before he can say another word the farmer has him by the throat
> "Gah! Heeeeehhh! Heeeehhh! Heeeeh!"
> Wheezing through the powerful grip the fluffy doesn't even notice he's leaving the fenced acre like he wanted
> The young fillies and colts attempt to follow waddling at the farmers heels
> "Woah woah woah, good fluffies stay in the field. Okay?"
> A particularly observant green filly chimes in, "dat mean dat bad fwuffy?"
> The farmer smiles and makes a mental note of her intellect
> "That's right, and bad fluffies get worst owies"
> The children cringe, even without witnessing "worst owies" they instinctively know it means death
> "Nuu! Nuu wan wowst owies!"
> Still gasping for breath the stallion has shit himself and urinated
> Well experienced with fluffies the farmer holds the wiggling defecating body at arms length
> Sparing his already filthy pants and boots from more stains
> "Don't worry my good little fluffies, only bad fluffies get owies."
> With that he closes the gate and takes his prey to a large stump
> An ax lodged within the center is amid many deep chop marks all stained a dark brown over time
> With a quick motion the farmer throws the still defecating body into an orange crate and covers the top with a heavy piece of wood
> Now choking in air the coughing and wheezing smarty resumes talking
> "*Gah* *Gah* Duh-Dummy! Wet smawty out! Nuu wike dis pwace!"
> Silently the farmer retrieves his ax with one hand
> It isn't one of the two handed wood chopping axes, just a hatchet
> Moving to his old fashioned grindstone he creates a shower of sparks as he sharpens the blade
> "Ooooh... Pwetty... Su- D-Du..Dun wan pwetty spawks! Dummeh wet fwuffy out! Wet out ow giff ouchies!"
> Still silent the farmer doesn't even look over to the imprisoned fluffy while he works
> Several young fluffies have lined up against the wooden fence
> Standing on their back legs they peep over a board at the bottom of the fence through the chicken wire
> Awed by the shower of bright orange sparks
> "Daddeh... wha happen tuu fwiend?"
> Looking up for the smart little green filly he simply smiles
> "He's not your friend. He's a bad fluffy."
> The smarty is retrieved from the crate and placed upon the stump
> Then with ax in hand and fluffy held on the stump he says one last thing
> "And bad fluffies don't get to live"
> With a flash the ax drops onto the smarties neck
> The body spasms and twitches as the head begins to cry and tries to mouth how sorry he is
> Even if the farmer believed him there is nothing that could be done now
> After only a few seconds the body is motionless and the head stares mouth agape at the now terrified children
> "NUUUU! NUU BAD! NUU OWCHIES! GUUD FWUFFY! WAAAH!"
> Thoroughly terrified the fluffies flee to mothers and fathers for comfort
> All except for a clumsy stallion who has choked himself to death in the chicken wire
> His body hangs limply as a pile of refuse begins to leak out of his bottom
> The dead fluffy is hung in a meat house to dry out, his head is left out for the vultures
> Recovered from the fence the unfortunate young stallion has his throat silt and his hung from the rack as well
> Soon each fluffy that witnessed the slaughter will forget the event
> But, they will never forget to be good fluffies