Maternal Desire [Raggie][Incomplete]

>Raggie is over a century old
>she ages mentally like any other pony, thinks like any other pony, has dreams and desires like any other pony
>but unlike other ponies, she doesn't have an estrus cycle
>she reached her prime, but knew well that she can never have foals to call her own, unlike other mares
>sometimes, she would get smaller dolls of fillies and colts and pretend they were her own
>eventually, she just gave up, and tried to focus solely on work
>but she knows deep down that, regardless of what she does or how much she tries not to think about it, she'll

die alone and childless
--------------------

>Be Anon.
>You and ol' Raggums have been living together for little over half a year.
>She loved you as so did you, though not in a romantical kind of way.
>More of a 'I care about you heavily' way.
>The way of living you had with her was more or less symbiotic.
>Currently you were looking through your closet for a set of dress clothing to wear for today.
>Well...whatever you had left, turns out making bleach was not a skill you possesed.
>Shirt...Checked.
>Pants...Checked.
>All that you needed was a pair of shoes. Bending down, you reaching to grab a shoebox of dress shoes.
>Only to have it knocked out of your hands by Raggie.
>She seemed a bit frantic today for some reason. Looking down at her white board it read out:
>'What are you doing?!'
"Putting on shoes?"
>They looked like your pair, same brand, logo and everything.
>She rushed off before bring out some raw tennis shoes.
>A quick scribble later, she asked another question.
>'Why not running shoes, they're perfect for....running.'
>She sported a odd smile.
>Maybe it was thing that 'ponies' like her did.
>Even if it was, you'd like to find out why. You reached over her to grab the shoe box once again.
>What if she shit in your shoes and she's feeling guilty.
>Can she even shit?
>As you bring to your chest, she tries to stop you again by holding it with her plushy hooves and looks at you

with pleading button eyes.
>You ignore it.
>Opening the box, it was revealed that your shoes were not in there.
>That's one mystery solved.
>Except it was filled with various and smaller plush ponies.
>They seemed like childhood toys.
>"You're embarrassed of your old toys?"
>She only continued to look at you only with a blank face.
>Her white board was half erased of her previous message.
>Letting her face out your sight, you pull one of the dolls out.
-
>It was brown maned, brown coated miniscule pony.
>It had a stitched on smile and a small button eyes.
>Raggie was practically a spitting image to it with the only difference being that it had white buttons for eyes

and a more curled mane.
>This is what she was afraid of you finding? A doll?
>Some days you loved her to death, but others you just couldn't understand.
>Today was the latter.
>Placing the first one down you reach in to pull out a second one.
>Raggie stops you with sword to the box, knocking it out of your grip.
"JESUS RAGS!"
>Sitting there, you watch as she decimates the box along with it's contents.
>Maybe it wasn't embarrassment she felt.
>She couldn't really talk, hence the whiteboard. But she kept mouthing the words 'leave me alone' over and over.
>Just let her get through it. You could stop her, but rathered not to get beheaded by her rage.
>After a while she managed to slow down and stop.
>By this point the box, along with it's tenants were minced.
>As soon as she stopped, you quickly took the opportunity to snatch the sword from her hooves.
>She didn't oppose.
>You spoke softly to her, careful to not re-engage her rage.
"What's...going on?"
>God you are awkward.
>She wrote sloppily into board without looking.
>'Nothing. Bad toys.'
>You need to research her kind one of these days to understand her.
"If it was nothing you wouldn't of shred your toys"
>Her head snapped back to you causing you to flinch back onto your back. She looked as if she was going to stab

you with that marker
>But instead she smacked you in the face by throwing her white board into your face.
>You catch it as it falls back into your arms,.
>The smeared writing read out 'They're not my toys'
>You remained doubtful
"You sure?"
>Pulling up the doll you just had, you present it to her.
>There's that frantic look again. She tries to jump onto you to get at the small toy, but you hold up your foot

to block her.
>She writes out a panicked request: 'Give her to me'
>Her?
-
"If they're not toys, then what are they to you?"
>She shifted nervously at the question
>You really wish she could talk.
>She tried reaching for the doll a second time, being stopped by you holding it even higher.
>You hoped to get this issues solved right now to prevent any further ones, considering she was the one protecting you while you slept.
>Raggie wrote a few words on her small board only to erase it and rewrite it several more times and erase it again.
>After a couple tries, she attempted to give you somewhat of an answer
>'It's hard to say'
>If she wasn't going to give you a straight answer, then you'd have to wait till she did.
>Sighing, you stuff the small doll into your pocket and leave the room to find a pair of shoes.
>She didn't protest as you left.
>Compassion was something you didn't have time for right now. You had to get to work today.
>She'd be alright for a little bit.
>You think
>
>Unlocking the door to your house you step inside and toss your shoes off. You were dead tired.
>Looking to the living room couch, you expect Raggie to be there trying to figure out how to use the TV remote, But for some reason she wasn't.
>Your best guess was that she was trying to find herself.
>Walking into your cold bed room, you decide to not even turn on the lights or even remove your clothes before collapsing into you bed.
>Why do you have to work so much? Oh right. Money.
>Nevermind
>It was time to fade off onto the eternal darkness that was sleep, and hopefully Raggie would be near to protect you as she always does.