Sowwies O' Nummies!

Feyascia, October 3, 2015; 15:45 / FB 33811
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Sowwies O' Nummies!

By Fey

****************

Be a fluffy pony stallion.

Be the toughie friend for a small, wild herd.

Be very, very scared.

Your smarty has forced the herd out of the tree-place that your herd had lived in for forever. Your smarty got tired of having to dig through the pretty-but-no-taste-pretty leafies to get to the dry grassies underneath. He tried threatening the trees and even gave sorry-poopies to a few, but the big trees still kept dropping their pretty leafies onto the herd lands (much to the delight of the herd's few foals, who didn't need to hunt for grassies and who loved romping through the pretty, crunchy colors). The smarty called the trees and the happy foals all dummehs. He then declared that the herd would be taking hoomin lands and hoomin nummies because the trees had decided to be dummehs.

You arrive at the edge of the hoomin lands right before the dark-time. The hoomins have lots of little-sky-balls that make light for them even after the big-sky-ball went sleepies, but it's still really scary. There are just too many hoomin munstahs! Big munstahs, little munstahs, munstahs of all shapes and colors! Munstahs with weird, sharp faces and munstahs with big, strange bodies! They move over long, flat rockies around grassies-places that sit in front of massive boxies. It is all too overwhelming.

Your mummah, rest in pieces, had always told you that hoomins could be munstahs and worstest meanies. Some of them would even try to give fluffies worstest hurties and forever sleepies as play! Scary!

To make it all worst, you aren't even a real toughie. You're a spindly-limbed wingie-friend. Smarty just made you a toughie because you were the only other stallion and because "smawty nee' haf toughie, dummeh toughie!" You wish you could just go back to finding nummies for the herd; you were really good at finding good nummies.

"Hewd keep movin!" your smarty shouts while puffing his cheeks. "Fwuffies gun' take housie!" Smarty turns forward and begins to walk. The others follow: a mare, the smarty's speshul friend, with three talkie-babbehs on her back; another mare, the smarty's other speshul friend, with her two big babbehs at her sides and tummeh babbehs in her tummy; an older mare that helps a lot with babbehs; and a pretty mare that you kinda sorta maybe please want to be speshul friends with. You blush under your matted fluff as you follow behind and stare at her pretty tail.

The pretty mare stops suddenly, and you don't have time to even look around before you get booped on the nosie. You fall onto your side and curl up into a quivering ball of fluff.

"Dummeh toughie!" Smarty shouts at his usual volume. "Why yu in backsies!"

"Huuhuuhuu...toughie...toughie pwotect hewd...fwom back? Smawty pwotect in fwont?"

Your answer earns you another hoof to the face. "Yu am suppose' pwotect smawty! Nu can pwotect fwum back! Munstahs nu come fwum backsies!"

You huuhuu quietly to yourself as you stand. You plod forward to take your place at smarty's heel.

****************

Smarty leads you along the grassies-place between the trees and the blackrockie. You gawk at the hoomin munstahs on the other side of the blackrockie. They are so scary! They come in so many scary shapes and scary colors and scary sizes!

Smarty stops and points across the blackrockie. "Hewd take dat housie!" The herd follows smarty over the blackrockie, along the greyrockie, and right up to the front of the big boxie that smarty calls a "housie". Luckily, there weren't as many hoomin munstahs around when you crossed over, so none of the herd got nummed. Smarty gives sorry-hoofies to a part of the housie that's a different color than the rest.

After a few moments, the door (how did that word get into your thinkie-place?) opens up, and a hoomin steps out! This hoomin has a poofy, messy, grey mane and big circles on her face. The circles must hold her see-places in, because her see-places are huge! They fill up the entirety of the big circles! The hoomin leans in over you, and you poop a little.

"Dummeh hoomin! Dis-"

"-Goodness! Aren't ya'll darling!" The hoomin's voice cracks out. "Such a cute lil' pirate, and that's an adorable robot. Great ninja, too; I can't even see you!" She cackles.

Smarty's cheeks deflate.

"Here ya go, little dumplins!" The hoomin is holding something out at you. At first, you get really scared that it might be the sorry-stick, but then you notice a round thing at the end. You give it a sniff...It smells like nummies! Good nummies! She presses the stick into your mouth, and you bite down on it.

Everyfluffy but the talkie babbehs gets a nummie-on-a-stick. The herd then settles nearby in a grassies-place, which is soon declared to be "smawty wand naow!" You num your nummie and nearly have good-feels from the first num. The nummie is sticky and juicy and sorta crunchy and very sweet. For some reason you think it's an apple-nummie, but it tastes much sweeter than you would expect.

The herd devours the nummies with gusto and are soon smacking lips and licking sweetie-pieces stuck between teethies. Everyone praises the smarty for capturing a best land with best nummies.

Smarty goes into a speech about how he is the bestest and smartiest smarty. You tune it out and stare at the pretty mare. Over her shoulder, you notice smaller hoomin munstahs with long, white not-fluff going up to the door. The door opens, revealing the hoomin from before.

"Trick or treat!"

"Huh? Klansmen? Ya'll are really taking the creepy bit seriously, ain't ya'll? Eh, whatever. Have at it, ya little rascists." The bigger hoomin hands the smaller hoomins the same nummie-sticks that the herd got.

You wonder why the-OW! Your nosie really hurts! You look over, saddie-wawas swelling into your see-places, and see smarty standing over you.

"Smawty say smawty take 'nudah housie! Get up, dummeh toughie!"

"Anudah housie? But hewd aweady haf su-OW!" You huuhuu again as you rise to follow smarty.

****************

You arrive at the next door shortly after the white hoomins leave it. They had performed the same strange ritual as before.

Smarty gives sorry-hoofies to the door, and it soon opens. There's another hoomin inside.

"Gif nummies o' get bigges' huwties!"

The hoomin munstah grins. "It's not 'trick-or-treat', but close enough." The hoomin places some nu-see baggies on the ground. They are filled with yellow, orange, and white, and there is a pretty ribbon tied around each baggie. "You fellahs storing up food for the, ah...cold times?"

Smarty sniffs at a bag. Somefluffy behind you pipes up with "Nu am fewwah, am mawe!"

You look up at the hoomin. "Cowd times?"

"Yeah, you know, winter and snow and cold. Days and days of cold and no food to be found. You gotta store up food early if you want to keep eating."

"Dat scawy!" You shake in place.

"I'm sure it is."

Smarty spits out the baggie he had been chewing on then yells up at the hoomin. "Dummeh hoomin! Dis nu am nummies! Toughie gif yu wostes' huwties noaw!"

The three of you all stare at each other. You wither under the gaze of both, but you manage to land a soft boop on the hoomin's not-hoofie.

"...Of course that's not food. It holds the food. You just pull off the ribbon and open it up to get to the candy." The hoomin produces another baggie. He pulls the ribbon off of his baggie then easily reaches in and pops a nummie into his mouth. "Like that. Now get the fuck off my stoop. My holiday cheer is wearing thin."

The hoomin then steps back inside the housie and closes the door in your face.

The herd works together to stuff the baggies into the fluff of the three mares without little babbehs. You are all still full from the earlier nummies, so no one complains about needing to eat the new nummies right now.

****************

Smarty sorry-hoofies the next door many, many times before it opens up. Now another hoomin stands in front you.

"What do you shitrats want?"

Smarty takes a deep breath to puff his cheeks and prepare his shout. "Dummeh hoomin! Gif nummies o' get bigges' huwties!"

The hoomin's face twists and contorts, changing before your eyes into a munstah's snarl. "What was that, SHIT-rat?" You make some scardy peepees into your tummy fluff.

"Smawty say gif-"

"-Twickotweet!"

Both smarty and the hoomin are staring at you again. Wh-why are they staring at you? Shouldn't they be staring at whatever just made that strange noise?

...OH

You make more peepees. They drip down onto the greyrockie under you.

After a long forever, the hoomin's face actually softens. "Hey, are you guys with Old Man Henderson's herd? Poor coot was never the same after he lost his garden gnomes... Anyway. You guys need to work on your lines. And you can't trick-or-treat at houses with no porchlight on." The hoomin points to a dark spot where most other housies have a little-sky-ball glowing in front of them.

One of the herd calls out. "Nu am guy, am mawe!"

"Uh-huh. Anyway. You guys got to be more careful if you don't want your heads bashed in. I don't have any food for you, but feel free to eat my grass. Damn lawn is overgrown anyway." The hoomin closes the door.

"Nu am guy, am mawe!"

Smarty turns to you, cheeks puffed. "What dummeh toughie say!"

You run out of peepees in short order. "Fw-fwuffy heaw hoomins teww hoomins 'twick-ow-tweat' an' get nummies. Fwuffy tink dat how hoomins take nummies?"

Smarty stamps his hoofie

"Fw-fwuffies haf wand noaw?"

Smarty gives your nosie sorry-hoofies.

"Smawty haf wand noaw! Huuhuuhuu!"

"Das wight!" Smarty then walks over to a nearby bush and makes poopies all over it to prove his ownership of the land.

****************

The next housie and grassies-place is covered with the sticky-not-fluff of the weggie-munstahs. Wispy clouds roll over the ground, and booboo-juice-colored light flickers over the housie and grassies-place.

The herd huddles together tight as you creep towards the door.

You gulp. "Maybe hewd skip dis housie? Haf wots of wand... Nu need dis one..."

The smarty trembles slightly against you. "N-nu! Housie on smawty wand! Take fwum dummeh hoomins!"

When the herd gets up to the door, smarty pushes you out in front.

"Why push fwuffy?"

"Hit doow, dummeh toughie!" says the smarty as he squeezes back between two mares.

"Huuhuuu. Fwuffy nu wan! Too scawy!"

"Hit doow, o' get hown in yu poopie-pwace!"

"Huuuuuuu!" You raise a trembling leggie up and move it towards the door, but the door creaks open before your hoofie can touch it. "H-hewwo? Twick-o'-"

"Myyy myyyyy..." you hear a voice that creaks more than the door. It makes your fluff crawl. "What do we have here? Some delicious morsels for me to gobble up?"

"GASP! Fwuffy nu am nummies!"

"But you all look so yummy!~ Please, just let me have one...teensie...little...BITE!"

The door flies open. A munstah jumps out. Lights flash. Sky-wawa-noises boom. Fluffies scream. Fluffies poop. Fluffies run.

"Muhahahaha! Come back here my treats! Ahahahaha!"

"Nuuuuuuu!" You all run across the grassies, but there's a loud noise and another munstah pops up! It's all made of white-sticks. White-sticks need to stay inside! No good if outside! No good! The white-stick not-hoofies reach out for you, and the white headie spins around and around on its neck.

The herd all screams and runs away again. You run and run and run and run until you have no more runnies left in your leggies.

****************

The herd collapses together in a big grassies-place. You all pant and 'huuuu' and shiver with scardies.

After recovering a bit, you look up. "Anyfwuffy nummed?" Your question prompts various calls of 'nu', and no one says that any friends or babbehs are missing. The herd got lucky.

You eventually pick yourselves up and look around. The big grassies-place is a big grassies-place. It has trees all around it except for a side with blackrockie. Housies are past the blackrockie. There are lots of hoomin munstahs and little-sky-balls around the place. Some of the small hoomin munstahs are running around together, probably trying to num each other.

Smarty snorts. "Smawty wand nao..."

Smarty yells at the herd to follow then starts towards the nearest group of hoomins: bigger ones sitting around a weird, tree-like thing...a table? You really don't want to go, but you reeeeally don't want to be left alone, so you follow with the mares.

Smarty waddles up to the nearest hoomin and hits its leggie with his hoof.

...

Smarty hits the leggie a few more times until the hoomin munstah looks down.

"Oi, the hell?"

"Twickahtweet, dummeh hoomin!"

The hoomin munstah does not look happy, but then you hear another hoomin make loud laughing sounds.

"Come on, mate, that was a good one. Nev'r heard a floof say that before. Enjoy, ya wee buggers." The other hoomin throws something past the herd.

Is that...are those...GASP! "GASP! BAWW!" The herd shouts in unison then scampers after the hoofies-many balls that landed on the grassies. The balls are round and bumpy. Three are orange, and the other one is black.

The herd spends forever playing with the balls. Balls are so much fun!. You can smack them, roll them, nose them forward, chase them, pass them between fluffies, and so much more. There is sooooo much fun to be had with balls! You play and play and play until one of the talkie babbehs loses its grip and falls from its mummah's backfluff. It cries on the ground until its mummah picks it up. She hugs all her babbehs close.

"Speshul fwiend!" The mare calls out.

...

"Speshul fwiend!"

...

"Speshul fwiend! Speshul fwiend! Speshul fwiend!"

...

"Smawty?"

"What fwuffy wan?"

"Babbehs am tiwed! Babbehs need safe pwace fo' sweepies an' wawms an' safies."

The smarty grumbles and kicks a ball. "Fine! Mawe, toughie, fowwow smawty!"

Smarty waddles over to a big tree inside the grassies-place. All around the tree are orange not-balls. They look scary! A lot of them have mean, scary faces on them that flare and flicker fearsomely. Hmm...except this one. This one has a big, friendly smile. It actually seems kinda nice for an orange not-ball thing.

"Wha dummeh toughie wookin' at!" Smarty leans in and sniffs at the not-ball. His earsies perk up in surprise. "Wawm? Mawe! Put you babbehs hewe! Am bestes' pwace fo' babbehs!"

The mare waddles up and looks at the not ball. Her earsies flatten. "Mummah nu wan munstah num babbehs!" "Nuuu!" "Nu num!" "Chirp!"

"Dummeh mawe! Nu am munstah! Am wawm fwiend! Put babbehs in!"

The mare sniffles and shuffles forward. One-by-one, she slips her babbehs through the mouth of the face of the orange not-ball. Her babbehs cuddle into a fluffpile and coooo at the warmth inside the thing. The mare gives a relieved smile. "Smawty am bestest smawty!"

The three of you romp off to rejoin the ball playing.

################

A human couple, arm-in-arm, approaches the tree. They had a wonderful evening at their neighborhood's Halloween bash, but one of them has an early morning the next day, so they decided to call it an early night.

First, though, they need to grab their pumpkin from the jack-o-lantern display.

After a short search they find their Tony-the-Tiger jack-o-lantern and carefully lift it out of the glowing pumpkin patch. When one of them lifts the top off to blow out the candle, they discover quite the surprise: three young foals cooing together in a fluffpile.

"Awwwww.~ Look, sweetie!"

The foals blink awake and stare, exhausted, up at a pair of faces looming in the sky above.

"Can we keep them?"

"I don't know..."

"Please? It's a Halloween miracle. We have to keep them! What would the Great Pumpkin think if we abandoned them?"

The other half chuckles. "We can give them a try; they'll go to a shelter if we can't handle them, though.

The couple share a kiss before continuing homeward. "I'll call you Pumpkin...you Jackie...and you...you'll be Bartholomew!"

"Chirp!"

The foals, too tired for excitement, cuddle back to sleep.

And thus the new family leaves for home, unaware of the fluffy herd playing on the other side of the park's big oak tree.

################

One of the weanlings figures out that the balls are also sweetie-crunchie nummies! The toys are soon eaten by the herd.

Suddenly undistracted, the smarty remembers his dreams of conquest. "Pway time ovah! Fwuffies dwive out west uf dummeh hoomins!"

The announcement is met with lackluster cheers and some complaints about needing sleepies. Smarty boops a few nearby nosies then lead the march again.

This time he confronts a group of not-small-not-big hoomins with dappled faces. Smarty blows a big, big raspberry at the group. "Twickahtweet, dummeh hoomins!"

A couple of the hoomins snicker. One of them steps forward. "Trick."

"Wha?"

"We choose trick." Then the hoomin munstah throws something down at the smarty, who yips and falls over.

Smarty scrambles back onto his hoofies then scurries away from the hoomins. The rest of the herd quickly follow suit, and the hoomin munstahs all start throwing things. You hear the others cry out from owwies. You feel something give you big owwies and stick all in your fluff.

You hear the hoomin munstahs all laughing as you cry and hide behind a bush. "Huuuhuuuhuuu, meanie munstahs gif biggest owwies!"

The older mare hugs one of the sniffling weanlings and starts licking the ickies out of its fluff. "Wha? Gud nummies?"

"Nuuhuuhuu! Babbeh nu am nummies!"

"Nu babbeh, stickie-ickies. Ickies nu taste pwetty, but am gud nummies."

Most of the herd, including you, gives some of their stickie owwies a lick. Old mare is right! The ickies feel wierd and slimy on your tongue, but your tummy wants more. The herd sets to licking their wounds (and each other's wounds) for a while until everyone is clean and all tummies are full.

The newest mummah declares that she "haf miwkies naow" and needs to feed her babbehs. She goes off towards the big tree while the rest of the herd mills about nearby, babbling and playing.

After a while, you start to notice the screams.

"Babbehs! Mummah hewe! Whewe BABBEHS?!"

You turn and look towards the tree.

The new mummah is running around all of the orange nu-balls. She looks into the face of each one then cries a little more. "Baaaabbeeeeheeeees!

The whole herd is watching her now.

"Gif babbehs! Gif noaw!" She strikes one of the orange things. Her hoofie goes into it, but it won't come back out. "Nuuuu! Nu num mummah! Am mummah! Num am fo' nummies! Babbehs need mummah!" She starts to panic wildly now, flailing her free leggies about.

The herd trots after the mare, but you won't make it in time.

The mare finally pulls herself free from the orange munstah and tumbles hard into another. This orange munstah launches a little-sky-ball from its mouth, and it hits the mare in the face! The light of the little-sky-ball grows quickly through her long fluff. "SCREEEEE! Hottie owwies! Buwnie huwties! SCREEEEEEEEEEE!!!"

The burnie-light covers her whole face now, and it still moves along her fluff. The mare runs in panicked circles, bumping into more munstahs and begging for huggies. The herd calls out to her, offering huggies, but she can't see you through the burnies! In no time she's completely covered in searing light.

The hoomins are starting to point, shout, and even laugh now. The herd races to help the mare. She needs huggies, maximum huggies, but she runs off in the opposite direction. You have never seen a fluffy run that fast, not even a fluffy with sickie-poopies rushing to make it to the good-poopies-place. The mare runs and runs and runs until she suddenly disappears! You see a splash of wawa-dirt and a hear gurgling sound, and then the mare and the burnie lights are no more.

All the hoomin munstahs are looking at the herd now. Some look angry; some look bad-happy; a few look sad. Smarty decides that it's time for sleepies, so you quickly retreat to the trees and find a bush to fluffpile under for the night.

****************

Bright-time comes. You wake up.

The whole herd yawns and stretches their little leggies, even the little bab-

Oh...the talkie babbehs are gone. Their mummah is gone to. You shiver and hide under your hoofies as you remember the dark-time.

You don't see the hoofie coming down on your nosie.

"Owwies!"

"Get up, dummeh toughie! Hewd gu tu hewd wand naow!"

"Fwuffies gu back to safe-pwace?"

"Nu! Nee' dig nyu safe-pwace!"

With minimal grumbling, the herd follows smarty back to the big tree. The munstahs are all gone now, and the smarty congratulates himself on scaring them away. The herd gives the smarty some quiet congratulations. Smarty basks in the attention.

"Naow hewd dig!"

After louder grumbling and a few nosie-owwies, the herd (sans smarty) is busy digging a burrow behind some bushes near the big tree. You dig and dig and dig and complain about hoofie owwies then complain about nosie owwies and then dig some more.

It's far into the bright-time by the time that there's a decent pit in the ground. Your hoofies are really, really owwie. The older mare even has some booboo-juice leaking from a hoofie!

Smarty is looking out across the big grassies-place, watching the blackrockie place. His cheeks are puffed.

"Hewd fowwow smawty!"

You all limp along after him.

Smarty stands at the edge of the blackrockie, cheeks puffed. You hear a rumbling sound, and a herd of giant, shiny monsters all run past! They're big and scary and loud, and the wind from their roars knocks you onto your side!

These are much scarier than even the munstahs from the dawk-time!

Smarty stamps a hoofie. "Dummeh munstahs! Dis smawty wand!"

Smarty walks onto the blackrockie and turns towards another approaching munstah. He lowers his horn at the beast. Scary sparkies erupt from his horn!

"Dummeh munstahs! Gu'way o' get bigges' huwties an' fowe-"

The munstah runs past again, not even slowing in the face of the scary sparkies. It's past you in a flash, and all that's left of smarty is a smear of redness along the blackrockie.

...

...

You get back on your hoofies and give a nervous cough. "Fwuffy tink dat fwuffies gu back tu safe-pwace naow. West hoofies den get nummies."

"...Otay."

The herd follows you back to the new burrow.