Predation part 6

Predation part 6

Map of the abandoned factory setting if you'd like - http://toranistheauthor.deviantart.com/#/d5dd0yf

http://toranistheauthor.tumblr.com/

http://pastebin.com/BgW3y4yb

Warning:  This story contains animals eating fluffies and fluff on fluff crime.  Viewer discretion is advised.


Ash the cat continues to observe and learn all about his new, favorite prey in their abandoned warehouse home.

After watching a pair of dogs rip apart one slow fluffy while it's two friends escaped, you took it upon yourself to make sure only one made it back.
Currently, you lounge on the roof of their own domicile while gorging yourself of fresh fluffy meat.
Hey, why not dinner and a show?
The smaller green one got inside, it's probably anarchy.
That might have made your job harder (relatively speaking, they are only hairballs after all) but this kill of opportunity has you in high spirits.
Dragging the carcass over to some square windows, you attempt to peek in on the proceedings while eating.
Bah, they're too dirty, but since a few are broken at the top there are plenty of places to sneak in with your prize.
You head in through one of the higher broken windows with half of Zippy as well, assessing the damage.

"Munsta! Whea babbeh?"

"Nu wan munsta, hidey!"

"Hewp! Nu wan be nummies!"

"Babbeh hidey an' nu be wowd, mummeh fin' bwuddah an' come hidey too!"

"Nu weave mummeh, babbeh scawed!"

"Pwease nu huwt, pwease nu huwt, pwease nu huwt, pwease..."

They're running around the open end like ants scurrying everywhere and vocalizing like never before.
Peachy.
Then a green horned one starts yelling while standing on top of an upside down bucket, some have stopped their panic long enough to listen.
And off they go, grabbing the rest and hauling them in front of him, even the fat ones are rolled close by.
That confirms it, you know for sure now this is the alpha.
Most are blubbering and crying, but his shouting eventually quiets them down, you're actually a bit impressed by how he demands and receives their attention.

"Hewd nu be wowd!  Wisten to smawty fwiend!  Munstas nu come in, fwuffies safe!"

Lots more babbling, but it's subdued this time and they lend him their ears when he speaks again.

"Hewd safe, nu huwties, nu owwies.  Mummehs an' daddehs an' babbehs nu wowwy.  Munstas neva in Hewd Howse, dey too dummy an' fwuffies too smawt!"

Even from your high perch you can clearly see and hear them stomping their tiny feet and making happy (you think) noises, all facing green guy on his perch.

"Mint, tewl Big Hoof wha' happn, whea' Zippeh an Bowncy?"

A light green fluffy walks up and sits before the darker green leader, her wings twitching subconsciously.
You recognize it from outside, the lucky one.
Lucky it was faster than it's friends that is.

"Bowncy tewl Mint he fin' neet wolly ting owtside buh WEAL cwose, Bowncy wan pway wif new toy so Mint an Zippeh go too.  Bowncy fin' wood ting wif rowwy tings undah, stan' on  top an woll when Mint gif pushies!  Haf fuhn pway buh meanie doggie munstas come!

Chatter starts up but that big green hair ball silences it by raising a leg and barking something.
For a stupid, useless ball of fluff this one seems to have it's head on straight.

Mint an' Zippeh an' Bowncy wun weal fast, was so scawdey!  Munstas wowd an' mean an' gif big owwies to Bowncy.  Mint twy hewp buh munsta wan gif Mint wowstest owwies too!  Zippeh cwose to Mint buh nu come in!  Dunno whea Zippeh go."

When they all start being vocal and crying again, the horned green one just raises a hoof and they shut up.
You wish you could do that.

"Den doggie munsta kiw Bowncy an' Zippeh, dey gone."

A cry rose from the herd, hair balls burst into tears and loudly proclaimed a great many different things all at once.
The winged green one lays on her belly in front of the alpha.

"Mint sowwy!  Nu wan munstas, onwy wan pway wif fwiends!"

*whap*

"Owwies!  Why huwt nosey?  Mint am gud fwuffy!"

Hopping to it's hooves, the still very much frightened (for more than one reason now) green morsel looked like it wanted to be anywhere else but there right now.
If the day goes well she may get her wish, free from her mortal coil and in your stomach.

"Yu wie to smawty fwiend!  Big Hoof kno' yu weave fiwst an' bwing Bowncy an Zippeh afta'!  Fwuffy mummeh see yu!

You're focusing hard on the confrontation and notice the smaller green one's wings flatten out against her back.

"Wha' wools?"  That darker green, horned alpha is trying to sound aggressive you guess.  It's hard to tell with that high pitched squeak of a sound they make.
And also over your own constant chewing, you're down to the leg meat.

"Mint say wha' wools awe nao!"

" *sniff*  Nu weave Hewd Howse unwess Big Hoof say okies, o' wif hewd."

"Do gud fwuffies bweak wools?"

"Mint am gud fwuffy!  Mint sowwy!"

"Mint do dummy ting an' nao fwiends dai!  Yu bweak wools, yu is bad fwuffy and yu haf consa-kinses!"

"Nuuuuuuu pwease, Mint gud fwuffy, gud fwuffy!  Pwease, nu wan' consa-kinses!"

"Bwack eyes, Wock, gif Mint... sowwy bawx."

"NUUUUUU!!! FWUFFY NU WAN SOWWY BAWX!  GUD FWUFFY, AM GUD FWUFFY!!!"

*whap*

"Owwie!"

You don't know what they're going on about, but the smaller green one with wings is crying and screaming like your prey often does.
After a moment of even higher pitched squeaking and what looked like an attempted hug the large green one shoved away, a plain grey fuzz ball grabbed the survivor by an ear and started dragging her somewhere.
Then another even darker one joined in, clamping down on the other ear and walking backwards towards a metal staircase.
The light green hair ball wailed the whole time, but got to her feet before hopping up six human sized steps instead of being hauled up instead.
The entire lot of them looked on, following closely but leaving a respectable amount of space, were they afraid of those two or was it something else?
Atop the stairs they stopped on a concrete platform, a door slightly ajar behind them and surrounded by human height metal railings.
With little effort but much wailing they stuff greenie into a filthy looking cardboard box and closed the top.

What the hell are they doing?
It's worth risking a bit of a closer look and you take several hops over high metal things, coming to rest on a large metal rack on the other side of the building.
Much closer, and still well hidden so high up from your prey.
You'll go back and finish that last kill later, all the best bits are gone now anyway.
Your landing is perfectly silent (of course) and the complicated mass you hide behind obscures yourself.
Not that it matters, every one of the talking animals is watching that box.
It shakes back and forth, muffled cries emanating constantly.
What is this... a punishment perhaps?
Is it like your shipping crate at home when you go to that evil human with the needles?

Suddenly the two fluff blobs responsible for stuffing it in there rear up and shove it right off the edge!
The box drops gracelessly to the concrete below and impacts with an echoing *THUNK*
Shrieking from inside starts almost immediately, a few fuzz balls extract the green one who is (you're assuming) voicing her displeasure.

"OWWWIEEEE!  Mint haf wowstest owwies, weggie big huwties! Fwuffy sowwy, nu moar huwties pwease!  Fwuffy sowwy!  Mint be gud, be gud fwuffy fo' Big Hoof!"

Big Green is making another proclamation, ignoring her cries.

"Mint bweak wools, nao hewd wose fwiends, hewd weaka' cuz' Mint do dummy ting.  Wha' hewd say?  Mint sowwy and wearn, or notha' sowwy bawx?"

Before the beleaguered fuzz ball could do more than open her mouth, another member of the herd pushed up onto her hind legs while using a neighbor for support and started yelling.

"Sowwy bawx!" The teal mare yells out loud.  "Bowncy gud fwuffy, bwing nummies fo' mummeh when wound wif' Bowncy's bwuddah an' sistah.  Wook afta babbehs when mummehs sweepie, gif nice huggies, keep babbehs wahm an' saf!  Nao Bowncy... *sniff* Tasseh's babbeh Bowncy go 'way.  Mint bad, scawdie, wowstest fwuffy!  Gif moar sowwy bawx!  Gif wowstest huwties *sob*!"

"NUUUUU! Nu moar huwties, weggie huwtie bad!  Wingie owwies weal bad!  Pwease nu sowwy bawx!!!  Pwease!"

Big Green (if you're going to keep track of a couple they may as well be called something), clambers back on top his bucket helped by few bricks behind it.
One of his friends drags the empty box back up the stairs with a little difficulty.

"Wha' hewd say?"

"Sowwy bawx, sowwy bawx, bad fwuffy wearn wools!, gif bad fwuffy sowwy bawx!"

"Nuuuuuuuu... pwease, nu moar bawx, Mint sowwy!  Mint neva' weave wifout hewd again!  Mint wearn!"

"Hewd say sowwy bawx Mint, show dat yu bwave fwuffy an' go in yu sewf."

" *sniff*... hu hu hu... nu huwt, gud fwuffy, gud fwuffy, Bownce say fowwow, Zippy say fowwow, dey fawlt!"

Big Green didn't like whatever little green said, he stomps his hooves and hollers in a comical way.
To you.
To the rest it's awe inspiring and frightening, several hide behind their hooves and babies push deeply into their mother's fluff.

"Smawty fwiend say yu wie, stiwl scawdie fwuffy an' bwame gone fwiends!!!  Yu get Sowwy bawx AN' sweepie in poopie woom  fo' two bwight dawks."

"NUUUUUUU! NU WAN'! NU WAN'!  PWEASE NU HUWTIES, PWEASE NU POOPIE WOOM!  AM GUD FWUFFY, WOTSA HUWTIES, NEED HUGGIES, PWEASE GIF HUGGIES!!!"

The light green fuzzy thing tried grabbing a nearby tan fluff ball but it skittered away and actually stuck it's tongue out at her.
Looking around everywhere for support but seeing nothing besides yelling fluffies and raspberries, she panics, poops and starts running, hoping she's getting further away from her tormentors.
Really now, what the hell is that thing doing, running a circle of crap into the floor?

The Alpha motions to his apparent enforcers, they approach the one being disciplined and start pushing her back towards the stairs.

"Mint stiw nu un'stan?  Stiw bwame gud fwuffies nao gone cuz' yu bweak wools?  An' make scawdie poopies wike babbeh?  Den Mint hafta cwean AWWWW poopies when babbeh make ax-e-dent! Dat YU hewd wowk fo' evah."

All semblance of dignity left behind, little green starts bawling like a newborn, sobbing and trying to hug other hair balls nearby.
They shake her off, even push and shove to dislodge her desperate grip.
Many puff up their cheeks and blow raspberries, it's just so damn ridiculous!
In a final act of desperation, she drops and covers her face with those short, skinny legs.
Her keepers don't miss a beat, they each grab a mouth full of fuzz and continue pulling right along.

Could it be they think everything disappears if they can't see it?
Nah, that'd be too stupid.
Mice are way smaller and even they don't do anything so dumb.
That'd be crazy...
Even crazier than day glow ponies that smell like nothing else in this world?

Dammit they're weird.
It seems like they've got some sort of social structure with leaders, enforcers and some who don't follow the rules.
Like that one time a newcomer came to where you and your friends were eating a pile of these things and tried to join in without offering the proper respect.
He never tried that again, he's now a very well behaved cat who realizes you are in charge.

Unlike greenie, who's just been crammed into that battered box again and begs for forgiveness, not that you'd have any idea what it said.

*Thump*....... *SMACK*
"WWWWAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

That's something you learned long ago, they get louder as they get hurt.
Some other ones slowly pull her from the box, trailing blood and crying.

"Weggie big huwties *sob*, wingie nu wowk, *sob* hed haf biggest owwies... pwease... *sniff* pwease huggies fo' fwuffy?"

"Nu huggies fo' dummy fwuffy.  Bwack eyes?  Mint go to poopie woom an' nu weave fo' two bwight dawks.  Gif yikky moss foodies an wawa onwy.  Okies?"

*nod*

"Yu gud fwuffy."

As the smaller green hair ball was led off by a larger, grey one (crying and slowly limping), Big Green addressed his mass of followers that you hope to eat one day.

"Hewd, bad fwuffy do bad tings, we woose gud fwiends cuz' didn' fowwow wools!  Wha' gud fwuffies do?"

Suddenly many voices rang out, startling you a bit.  Watching the blood trail greenie is leaving caught your attention.

"Gud fwuffies fowwow wools, fowwow smawtie fwiend an' stay wif' hewd!"

"Aw good fwuffies.  Smawty wait widdle bit, den doggie weave an aw go fo' nummies.  Cowd time come, hewd haf gud home buh need big nummie piwl so nu tummy owwies."

"Yay nummies!"

"Missy wan' fwower nummies."

"Wandy hungwy"

"Cowa haf wowstest tummeh owwies, nummies nao pwease?"

"May need wotsa nummies, gonna haf babbehs!  May wuv babbehs!"

"Wock say nu weave 'til smawty say."

"Awwww, wan nummies, tummy owwies."

Overall, you're quite pleased how things turned out.
You'd expected a tightly wound, hyper vigilant wall of searching eyes and straining ears.
Instead they're chatting animatedly with each other, hugging a lot and put on an interesting show with that light green one.
It looked hurt, quite hurt by the second time and even left a convenient blood trail for you to follow.
The one who took little green away is already back but returned by itself... is there a lone victim waiting for you somewhere in this giant building?
And there's that old, familiar feeling.
Another meal, a fuzz ball hurt and alone.
Confidence brimming, you're sure you can make the kill and get away without any being the wiser.

There are almost no hair balls playing between the large metal things, it's somewhat darker at this end, which suits you just fine.
Glancing for just a moment, you stealthily, gracefully, perfectly jump from odd shape to odd shape, staying high and without a care of being spotted.
Professionals don't get spotted.
Little red dots lead the way, almost imperceptible considering how dark this side of the building is.
They don't seem to see very well in low light, you add that to their ever growing list of weaknesses.
Two more jumps and you're there, perched high and looking down at a closed door and one VILE smell emanating behind it.

The trail abruptly stops in front, your morsel must be inside.
Now... how to get in?
Closed doors always represent a problem, unless they have a long handle bit to pull down on instead of the round turny types that're nigh impossible to work on your own.
You're a little perplexed by this door though, it doesn't even have a turny thing, a handle part, nothing at all.
Tentatively, you push a bit with one paw.
It moved!
But when you stopped, the door pushed back and closed itself!

"Fwiends hewp?  Come wet fwuffy out yikky poopy pwace?"

Yes, that's the sound little green makes, it's so close.

"Pwease wet out, am sowwy, am gud fwuffy!"

Well you can't go in, it might shut behind you.
There's a scraping noise on the other side, dinner is pawing at the door and probably wants away from the stench like you do.
Well then... why not let it out?

You lean against the door and push, it slowly eases open with some effort.
You're rewarded by the appearance of a fluffy face squeezing hard as it can through the little opening you've made.

"Yay!  Fwu-"

It doesn't get a chance to finish, your head darts forward and clamps down hard on it's muzzle, forcing the little mouth shut.
It squeaks and shakes, her tears plain as day to your keen eyes as you yank backwards hard.
But the body is wider than it's head, the door pushing back is making this more difficult than it should be.
You jerk backwards hard several times, almost afraid your grip will take it's muzzle off before it's out.
Fortunately with one final tug the hair ball pops free squeaking into your mouth, legs and wings thrashing with panicked fear.
It's too big to be holding by the muzzle like this, you force it to the ground and turn hard, flipping the struggling meal onto it's back.
Now the hard part, getting a good grip on its neck before screeching can alert the others.
She cries and whimpers while your mouth keeps it's death grip, experience brings you the answer.
Shifting your weight, one rear leg presses down hard on it's abdomen, forcing the air out while hair balls weak legs feebly try to push it away.
Suddenly you release it's mouth and dive into the throat fluff.
It barely wheezes before you've got it by the neck, eyes already searching for a good place to go and finish the job.

"Hew-"

The last sound it'll ever make.
It takes a decent effort but you leap up on top of a long, flat metal thing.
High enough to obscure you from view, but now your victim's wings are making an annoying slapping sound, and it's small hooves clack against the cold steel.
You bite down with all your force, the whole creature convulses and thrashes briefly.
Any moment now, you hold your breath.
Yep, it pooped.
Like it didn't smell bad enough before!
Little wings suddenly stop flapping, big eyes glaze over, legs go limp and fall to each side...
It's yours.

You've identified the leader, learned more about their social structure AND taken two good sized fluff balls all in one day.
It's this kind of success that makes you the best.
Not boasting.
Results.
While you've picked up a lot, the screwy hair balls act so bizarrely it might just be the beginning of your education.
However you do have the most important part worked out, practiced and honed quite well.

How to kill them.

Clamping their mouths shut with your own is a reliable way to keep one quiet, but a good neck bite is preferable if you can push through all that fluff.
It's an important part of hunting the hair balls, they're so incredibly loud and this herd is much larger than any you've dealt with before.
The whole lot rushing you simultaneously might even be a danger.
Ya know... MAYBE.
We're talking about the apex predator after all, the only hope they'd have would be overwhelming you with sheer numbers.
It's a whole new kind of game, but you relish the challenge.
You thrive on it, and how long has it been since they've been anything but easy targets?

You've moved back up to your original vantage point and spend the next half hour lazily stripping the flesh from Mint and picking at scraps of Bouncy's carcass.
Why can't they always be quiet like this?
The majority of the herd is waddling around together in the open end.
Vocalizing, grooming, nosing little pieces of random garbage around, even rolling an almost bald tennis ball back and forth (never aiming right).
And hugging, they seem to do that a whole lot.
The teal one you remember from earlier, it leaned against another fuzz ball for balance while screaming something at little green.
Lots of them are hugging it, maybe that's another important member.

Big Green stands on his silly little bucket and makes human sounds at those sitting close by, they seem enraptured by whatever he's saying.
Hmmm... now what would happen here if you took out the leader?
Even better, killed him right in front of the rest?
Would they do that stupid thing with their cheeks, stick their tongues out?
Charge?
Panic and scatter?
No no, you can't think like that.
Fun as it would be to watch, this your your Larder, why ruin the prize?
The days grow shorter, the nights colder.
Chances are they won't be leaving anytime soon.
You've got all winter to experiment and toy with and feast on your fluffy herd.
Your property.

Forgoing the scrawny leg meat, you temporarily abandon the corpses and drop down low, landing softly in a pile of white cloth you recognize as the same stuff covering a lot of the metal things.
It reeks of fluff balls, they must be using it for a bed.
There's a large yellow metal thing that would make for a perfect vantage point, more of the hair balls are gathering around Big Green, you want a better take on what's going on.
Time to-

"Fiwwy nu wan' pway hidies, pway dif..."

Whipping around with incredible speed, you're staring at the emerging muzzle and nubby horn of a little pink foal.
You've landed in her bed, the fluff blob was hiding inside a fold in the sheets.
She must have felt movement and started talking to what she thought was another fluffy.
With a little struggle humans would find adorable, her tiny head pops out and looks up at whoever "found" her.

*blink*

All she saw was a blur of motion, a grey streak shooting right over her head and disappearing beyond a tall metal thing.

A very high pitched shriek fills the air.

Fluffies panic once again, running in all directions while a little voice screams about scary monsters.
Her mother squeezes into the space between the body and a wheel of the big yellow metal thing (a forklift), butt sticking out.
Other fluffies hide in plain sight, little hooves covering their faces.
Still others hide behind them.
The dumb hiding the dumber.
Parents try to round up foals while terrified, tripping and sometimes grabbing the wrong baby or worse, stepping on them.
It's fluffy pandemonium, but you're already long gone.

Big Hoof hollers at his herd to calm down, his toughie friends grabbing fluffies left and right, making them sit down in front of his bucket.
Calming the herd is something any smarty friend will gain great experience in.
He himself yanks the hiding mother from the poorly chosen hiding place (her entire white butt was on display for all to see), he almost drags her over to the screaming foal.
After the usual chorus of "gud fwuffy" and "Wuv hus'ban Big Hoof" she finally reaches out and begins comforting the shaking filly.
Minutes later the tiny pink unicorn stops babbling incoherently and starts talking.

Talking all about a black streak and two glinting eyes jumping into bed, then right over her head!
As she rambles on, the monster's description changes, she has to admit she didn't get a very good look.
Fluffy foals aren't known for their wide vocabulary anyway.
Luckily for you, none believe her story of leaping shadows and monsters in her bed.
She just had a bad sleepy time, or maybe a birdie got lost and flew in.
After all, this is the Herd House, no monster could ever get in here.
The herd is too strong and too smart to let monsters inside their very own home.
And Big Hoof says so too, so that's that.
Dummy, meanie monsters never get inside the Herd House.

Embarrassment.
Stinging, burning humiliation.
A tiny fuzz ball the size of your head not only got the drop on you but scared out a life or two in the process.
You ran like a coward, almost killed yourself jumping blindly at the windows (luckily you picked a broken one to go through) and left the remnants of your kills high up on the metal human stuff.
There's no point in going back now, they're probably on high alert.
The walk home takes much longer, what was an excited spring in your step has melted away into a slow, plodding walk.
You should have grabbed it by the muzzle like little green and... well it doesn't matter now.
The evening wasn't a TOTAL bust.
Lots of fluffy meat is digesting in your belly, and you've learned more about how organized the hair balls are.
Most importantly, you know who the leader is, witnessed how respected he is and saw how his word was law.
All useful bits of information.

You've a lot to consider tonight.
Maybe after dinner, you're pretty stuffed but that kibble won't eat itself.
The Larder isn't going anywhere, and tomorrow will be different.
No mistakes, no foals sneaking up from behind.
Next time, that little pink one is your target.
Next time, It's revenge.

End part 6