Maroonfall (10)

“33- the LORD our God gave him over to us; and we struck him down, along with his offspring and all his people. 34- At that time we captured all his towns, and in each town we utterly destroyed men, women, and children. We left not a single survivor.”

Deuteronomy, 2:33-34


"No cause justifies the deaths of innocent people."
Albert Camus


> You are Sparks.
> And the screams have started again.
> Both you and Cuddles rush to where the Owwie Ring is…
>…and stop.
> The Many Friends are hurting mummas and babbehs!
> They cry and wail as The Many Friends and slaves stomp babies, kick little fillies, bite colts and attempt bad special hugs with mares.
> What? WHY!?
> You run over to Scruffy, who stands away from it all, watching.
> “Scwuffy, why do dis!? Dey nu nee’ hav biggest owwies! Mawoon sweep fowevew! Aww Ash Howns hav biggest owwies!”
> He looks at you, a mixture of anger and sadness on his face.
> “Cuz Peppewmint…and Siwky, say so. Dey aww bad. Dey aww take da fowevew sweepies.”
> “NU! Onwy bad fwuffies do dis!”
> He narrows his peepers at you.
> “None of Mawoon’s hewd weft. Evewy fwuffy.”
> “Yoo nu teww Atwas of dis!”
> You turn your head. Atlas, along with Precious, is next to you. You both stare at Scruffy.
> “Dis was nu pawt of deaw, Scwuffy…Wat dis poopies?” Precious says.
> “Wat you wan Scwuffy do?!” Scruffy asked, no more sadness on his face.
> “Stop it!” you yell.
> Atlas puffs his cheeks.
> You are about to spark your horn, when you hear a single voice boom throughout The Rink.
> “STOP, BAD FWUFFIES!”
> Balder and the Aesir rush into The Many Friends, scattering them this way and that. A few are bucked, headbutted and bit. They scruffy back from the remains of Best Herd.
> The Aesir form a ring around them and turn to face The Many Friends.
> Some of The Many Friends look readying to give owwies, but Balder stomps.
> Then the two fluffies on either side of him stomp.
> Then all the Aesir stomp. It is loud, echoing, and scary.
> The Many Friends shrink back, afraid of the big, strong, brave fluffies of the Aesir. The memory of what they did to the Ash Horns still fresh in every fluffy’s mind.
> The Aesir stop stomping, and Balder yells.
> “Bawdew pwomise guud fwend dat nu mowe mummas and babbehs get huwt. Any dummy who wan to make Bawdew bweak pwomise, twy it!”
> He locks peepers with Scruffy.
> “Yoo make Gunnaw’s guud fowevew sweepies bad. If yoo aww dun wan get biggest owwies, den weave dese fwuffies awone!”
> He spits this last word.
> “But Peppewmint an Siwky say giv dem aww biggest owwies!” Scruffy protests.
> “Dun cawe!” Balder snaps. “Peppewmint wick poopies, an Siwky is fwuffmuncha! Now…WEAVE DEM AWONE!”
> Scruffy just stares back at him.
> You look from one side, to the other.
> Cuddles approaches slowly, her head down.
> “Jus weave. Nu mowe, otay?” she whispers, either to you or Scruffy. You don’t know which.
> The slaves grumble.
> One slave trots forth, a blue earthie with a grey mane
> “Dey huwt Sticky! Dey huwt speciaw fwend! Dey huwt us aww! We huwt dem, now!” he yells.
> The grumbling gets louder.
> Just leave.
> No more.
> “NU!” you yell. “Mawoon and Ash Howns huwt yoo. Mawoon and Ash Howns huwt yoo speciaw fwends and babbehs! But Mawoon sweeps fowevew, and Ash Howns aww gone! Dis…”
> You gulp and turn away.
> “Dis aww bad.”
> You begin walking away.
> “Spawks?” you hear Cuddles say.
> “Spawks, pwease wait!”
> You continue walking, you walk out of The Rink, Cuddles following you, and you never look back.


----------

> You are Scruffy.
> And as much as you love Peppermint and Silky, you are too tired of giving owwies to continue.
> The Ash Horns were big and strong. But the Aesir are bigger and stronger.
> And while you hate to let these bad fluffies go, you know that if you try to give owwies to the Aesir, you and all your friends *will* sleep forever.
> So you took your friends and you left The Rink, leaving Atlas, Precious and Balder there.
> Atlas called you a bad fluffy, and decided to stay with Precious.
> You were doing what your smarty told you to do, how does that make you a bad fluffy?
> …Were the Ash Horns, and Maroon’s herd just doing what they were told?
> No.
> Not the Ash Horns, at least. They were all bad.
> But that look in Sparks’ peepers, his words.
> You won’t forget that.
> And you know, somewhere deep down, that you will have a hard time getting sleepies for a very, very long time.

----------

> You are Balder.
> And you are glad.
> You kept your promise.
> This day was glorious!
> Sagas will be told of brave, old Gunnar, and how put the Ash Horns to the forever sleep.
> How his roars echoed throughout The Rink, causing bad fluffies to tremble and make bad poopies and peepees.
> How the All-Daddy gave you all the strength to give owwies to bad fluffies.
> And how he chose to let the rest of the Aesir live.
> You are also very relieved that Scruffy didn’t spoil the day.
> You don’t think you like him or Peppermint anymore…
> The Aesir protected the mummas and babies, and those few stallions that remained of Maroon’s herd, and helped them leave The Rink without the slaves hurting them.
> Precious, to your surprise, said that the slaves could come with her.
> So long as they found shinies for you sometimes.
> What surprised you even more, was that she didn’t take Maroon’s horn shiny.
> She looked at it, smiled, but then looked around and all the forever sleeping fluffies, the black mess that remained of Maroon, the booboo juice, peepees, poopies and belly ickies everywhere.
> She then shook her head, and mumbled something. You think she said “Bad pwace. Bad shiny.”
> You smile.
> It is odd how the All-Daddy makes things work. Makes good fluffies from greedy fluffies and bad fluffies from good ones.
> Before you left The Rink, you pulled Gunnar out and placed him in Big Field, where the All-Daddeh’s feather friends could find him.
> Each of the Aesir stomped their hoofs and happily yelled: “Gunnaw go home! Vawhawwa is yoo home!” three times before you all went back to your home.
> Who knows, maybe you will all see Gunnar again.
> When the All-Daddy decides it is your time.


----------

> You are Pepper. With you is Queenie, Prince and Princess.
> Those stupid big fluffies didn’t even know you were an Ash Horn!
> You even saw Maroon.
> Or what was left of him.
> You think.
> It was hard to mistake that horn, with that shiny.
> The shiny you found for him, the poopiehead.
> Queenie and Princess cried a lot when they saw that. Prince just stared.
> Now, out here, somewhere beyond Dark Forest, the sky has stopped crying and you decide it is time.
> Prince tries to make poopies, and when he squats, you buck him in the head as hard as you can, sending him to the grassies, crying and holding his head.
> “PWINCE!” Queenie yell.
> You buck her too, and she lands on Princess, who screams and cries.
> She rolls around on her belly. Princess I still pinned underneath her.
> Now you’re going to feel what that peepee place feels like.
> You hop on her back, and begin thrusting.
> “NU! NU BAD SPECIAL HUGGIES, PWEAVE PEPPEW!”
> She thrashes around, but you are too strong.
> You were made to be smarty.
> “Queenie pwetty. Too guud fow Mawoon.”
> You begin thrusting. It’s so warm.
> She cries and begs.
> You thrust harder and harder, your peepers closed. You want to feel the good feel. You want to feel the good feel with Queenie, even if she doesn’t like it.
> Suddenly, you realize they aren’t screaming or crying anymore.
> *GRRRRR*
> You open your peepers.
> Your happy thing shrinks and you make scared poopies.
> Before you is something big, really, really big. It has one peeper,that looks directly at you. It is black as darktime itself. It takes you a moment to realize it looks like a black fluffy with a white mane.
> When it pulls its lips back, however, you realize this isn’t just any fluffy.
> You remember the stories, told to you by your mumma a long time ago, and by the scared whispers of fluffies in The Rink.
> Its teeth are sharp, like a dog-monster.
> Its breath stinks of booboo juice.
> And the noise it makes…
> The stories were true. Were all true.
> The stories of bad fluffies torn to bits, of bad herds reduced to one or two fluffies, forever afraid, whispering ‘Wan Die’ and ‘Munsta Fwuffy’.
> They whisper one other thing too. Two words that make fluffies shiver as if cold.
> Those two words are the last words you ever think.
> ‘The Howler’.

----------

> The sun went sleepies a little while ago.
> And you just entered The Rink.
> You trotted around, looking at all the booboo juice, and forever sleeping fluffies.
> You think you’ll take sleepies here, at least for tonight.
> Seeing the broken, deep red horn with the shiny on it, next to a big, burned thing, you know exactly what happened here.
> And you smile.
> Or you smile as good as you can smile.
> You fix your peeper on the big burned thing.
> “Weww, yoo dun wook so guud, Mawoon.” You say, laughing and shaking water from your fluff.
> “Yoo wook wike nummies dat was weft in da micwowave too wong.”
> You trot over to it, raise your hoof over where Maroon’s belly would be.
> And stomp.
> “Is funneh. Yoo teww Stompy to go ‘way to Da Home, and wook wat happens.”
> You gesture with your left hoof around at all the owwies around you.
> “dis, hewe…and yoo, down dewe. Aww cwispy.”
> You fell into Little River, earlier.
> But you stomped the water. You stomped it so hard and so fast that you floated.
> You were able to bite onto a stick, and pull yourself out.
> You don’t care for being wet. Makes the burny-owwies on your face smell funny.
> “Weww, dis is guudbye. Heheh. Gun sweep hewe, den weave at Bwighttime. Pwaces to go, things to stomp. Yoo know, aww dat. Is dat otay…?”
> There is no answer from the crispy-Maroon-thing.
> “Best Smawty of Best Hewd!” you laugh. “Dat’s yoo! Tanks fow wetting Stompy sweep hewe fow a bit.”
> You are Stompy.
> And there is nothing better in life than stomping!
> Except teeth.
> No, wait, stomping.
> Stomping for sure!


----------

(A year and three months later.)

> You are Peppermint.
> You are resting, your blankie wrapped around you.
> It can’t keep out the chill, even if warmer times are coming.
> You know why.
> You are almost ready to sleep forever.
> Scruffy knows this. He will be smarty after you.
> You hope he will get on alright without you.
> Things have changed. Some for the better, some for the worse.
> The fluffies of Maroon’s herd who escaped thanks to the Aesir have all scattered. Some joined the Fluffytown herd. Others formed herds of their own.
> Among these herds, a few are all unicorn herds. They smear their faces and horns with mud, ash, berry juice, anything they can find. They give biggest owwies to non-unicorn fluffies, and tell every fluffy of The Rink and Maroon, who made them safe, and made sure they always had nummies. How all was good with him as smarty, until ‘bad fluffies’ took it all away.
> Scruffy has had small owwie piles with them a few times.
> They call themselves ‘Marooners’.
> Herds of them are scattered here and there.
> No Marooners go into The Rink, though.
> Not many fluffies do.
> There are stories about it, how small groups of fluffies go in, stay for a brighttime, then run out screaming and crying.
> No fluffies know why. Some stories say that they hear the crying of babies and the yells of angry stallions when darktime comes.
> Some say that the bones of the forever sleeping rise and try to give visitors owwies.
> You don’t know. All you know is that it is bad.
> Any big herd that goes inside will leave shortly after, missing herdmembers, covered in poopies and booboo juice.
> You’ve told your herd to stay away from it. It is a bad place for fluffies.
> Little River is also a bad place for fluffies, though not as bad as The Rink.
> Mummas tell their babies to stay away from it, or the Stompy-monster will come out of the water, stomp them flat, and drag them down to be his toys forever.
> There are also many, many stories of fluffy mummas who have dark red unicorn babies, and who give them biggest owwies as soon as they are born.
> Scruffy said he saw it happen.
> Another story is that no mumma around names their baby ‘Maroon’.
> You don’t know what to think of these stories, if they are true or lies.
> You suppose it doesn’t matter. At least not to you, and not anymore.
> The Aesir and your herd have started being friends again, but it took a very, very long time for huggies to be exchanged, and Balder says that he’ll never help you give owwies to another herd again.
> Sunny, Brownie and Scout have all gone with them.
> Atlas left with Precious, who took almost all the slaves. He said that with Kali sleeping forever, there was no reason for him to stay. That you were a bad fluffy.
> It hurt when he said that…
> Scruffy and Silky have become special friends, yet Silky never wants special huggies.
> This makes him sad, because she is a very pretty mare.
> No fluffy knows what happened to Sparks and Cuddles.
> The stories about where they’ve gone are many, as many as there are pretty, twinkling lights in the darktime sky.
> You sigh.
> You hope, wherever they are, they are happy. They were…they are, good fluffies.
> It makes you smile to think of them.
> Despite all of what happened, Dark Forest herd is still here. And you hope it will be, long after you are gone.
> Laying your head down, you close your peepers and try to go sleepies for a little bit.
> If you listen really hard, you can hear Little River, forever flowing onwards somewhere in the distance.
> The songs of feather friends fill the sweet-smelling air, mixed with the laughter of happy fluffies, playing, hugging. Not afraid. Not sad. Not hurt.
> The way all fluffies should live.


“Earth mountains, rivers revealed
It is our path defining our desires
Our desires defining our goal
Our goal defining our deeds
Our deeds defining who we are
Spring flowers, winter snows
There's no being or non-being, nor denial itself."
Whispered, ‘Blade in the snow’


(TO BE CONCLUDED IN “Sparks and Cuddles: Somewhere else but here”)