Listen to Smarty 15

>You are Listen, a Smarty Friend
>You sit atop your rock in the small clearing in your forest, watching your herd laugh and play; the fluffy mummas hug and feed their children while the stallions play tag around a large pile of nummies
>As you watch your herd with a smile on your face, you hear a rumble off in the distance; you look up to see red clouds filling the sky, wicked sparks flashing as they begin fighting each other
>The herd stops playing and huddles together, fearful of the strange weather; you stand up, trying to understand what is going on
>Then you see it, circling the clearing just below the clouds; it's a birdy-munsta, but by far the largest you've ever seen: its body and wings are as black as the dark time sky, its eyes glowing brighter then any metal-munstas, its long and wicked-looking talons ready to tear a fluffy clean in two
>You try to scream, to warn the herd, but no sound comes from your mouth; you try again, with no success, and the herd just continues to sob in fear
>The great birdy-munsta's eyes fall upon you, nearly blinding you with their light; it swoops down, growing bigger and more nightmarish in form, its claws morphing into mouths with endless rows of teeth
>Spreading your wings wide and baring you teeth, you charge towards your doom, an unfluffylike roar erupting from your throat as the wretched beasts engulfs you
"Daddeh, daddeh!"
>You awaken to feeling of a light pounding on your nose; as your eyes begin to focus, you see one of Heartstrings' babbehs, the little pegasus filly named Coffee, who is currently pushing her hooves on your nose
"Daddeh, sky weiwd!"
>Still feeling a bit groggy, you slowly pull yourself out of the fluff pile; Coffee tries to get you to move faster by running around in circles while asking you to hurry, but since she's only just begun being able to walk, she just ends up tripping and rolling around a lot
>You gently lift Coffee by the scruff of her neck and place back on to her hooves, then waddle over to the edge of the bush and poke your head outside
>The sky above is clear and blue, with only a few puffy white clouds; you smile as you feel the warmth of the glowy sky ball on your face
>it's been raining almost non-stop ever since the birdie-munsta took Blackie, you were beginning to fear you'd never be able to leave the bushes
>Taking a few more steps out of the safety of the leaves, you check on the grass: it feels soft and sticky on your hooves, the rain has made the ground all muddy
>You frown: moving the herd right now would be a bad idea, the muddy ground would make it hard to run if more monsters show up, but staying here might not be safe either; you're still very close to a hooman home, staying too long could get your herd seen, and then you'd all get biggest owwies
>A tug on your leg reveals that Coffee has managed to follow you out of the bush
"Daddeh, why sky weiwd? Nu cwouds ow wa-wa ow boom-boom!"
>You look down on at confused filly, feeling your mouth turning to a smile; Coffee's grown so used to the rain, she's forgotten what the sky should be like
"Sky nu weiwd, gwowy sky baww mek wain gu way. Gwowy sky baww guud fwiend tu fwuffies, mek fwuffies and gwasses dwy an' wawm."
>Coffee looks towards the glowy sky ball with the biggest smile you've ever seen, then begins running towards it; you step on her tail to keep her from running off into the mud, causing her to fall on her rump
>She looks at you confusedly
"Why Daddeh stop Coffee? Wan' gif gwowy sky baww huggies fow be guud fwiend."
>You chuckle
"Gwowy sky baww tuu faw away fo' huggies, nu eben Swugga can gif huggies."
>Something finally clicks in your head
"…an' nu am Daddeh. Am Smawty."
>Coffee giggles and hugs the leggie pinning her tail down, calling you a silly daddy; she's been calling you Daddy since before your last sleepy time, and no matter how many times you try to explain it, she won't be convinced otherwise
"Daddeh siwwy! Smawty keep babbeh safe, an' daddeh keep babbeh safe, su Smawty Daddeh!"
>You rub your forehead with your free hoof in frustration: she's been convinced that your her Daddy ever since she found out what a Daddy is from one of Peach's foals (you're betting it was  Rock, you doubt Juice or Licorice would have let her think you could be a Daddy)
>It's impressive that such a young babbeh has managed to come up with such a smart connection; considering how quickly she seems to have learned to walk and talk, Coffee could grow up to be a very smart fluffy
>Your ear twitches as you hear some giggling coming from the fluff pile; you snap your head around and glare at the pile, though whoever is finding amusement at your expense seems to be pretending to still be asleep
>On the other hoof, it's quite an annoying development: Coffee may be smart enough to make such a complex idea as Smarties and Daddies being one and the same, but she's also very stubborn about being corrected, especially since you've avoided hitting her to make her understand; the rest of the herd seems to think it's funny and haven't been any help at all about correcting her mistake
"Smawty an' Daddeh nu same. Smawty mus' pwotect aww hewd, Daddeh pwotect famiwy. Daddeh wuv speshal fwiend an' babbehs, gif dem nummies an' huggies. Smawty nu am Daddeh."
>Coffee looks up at you sadly, her bottom lip trembling
"Smawty nu wuv Mummah an' Sissy an' Coffee?"
>You ponder the question for a moment: you suppose you do love them, they're part of your herd after all; you love all your herd mates  at least a little, even the ones you don't particularly like, but it's certainly different than the love you felt towards Momma and Look
"Weww… Smawty wuv Coffee, buh-"
>Coffee's eyes light up
"An' Smawty gif Mumma nummies an' babbehs huggies fo' sweepies! Smawty AM Daddeh!"
>You groan as the little filly resumes snuggling your leg; doesn't look like she'll be listening to reason any time soon
>You turn around and start waddling back towards the fluffpile to rouse your herd, your loving not-babbeh still happily clinging to you
---
>You are a woman named Dora
>Currently sitting in your kitchen eating breakfast, two eggs and a few strips of bacon
>You idly chew your food as you look around your giant kitchen: you thought the house was far too big when you bought it, but your husband was sick of the city and wanted a place big enough to raise a family
>Now that he's gone, it just feels cold and empty; you were prepared to lose him, it was a risk of his profession, but you hadn't realized how lonely life would be
>Sighing softly, you finish eating and put your dishes in the sink and start rinsing them off
>Over the noise of the running faucet, you hear tiny hooves galloping across the tile floor
"MUMMAMUMMAMUMMA-"
>You turn and see your fluffy, Barbie, a little… well you think the color is called desert rose, but your husband always called it pink and said you were being pretentious, her yellow mane tied into a pair of adorable pigtails
>The energetic pony runs around you in circles as you turn off the faucet and dry your hands, excitedly squealing and flapping her tiny wings as fast as she can
>You lean down and catch her as she tries to run another lap around you, flipping the pegasus on her back as you tickle her belly; Barbie begins giggling hysterically, kicking her little legs in air
>Your husband got Barbie for you so you'd have someone to keep you company when he was away on business
>You thought it was a bad idea at first, fluffies are notoriously hard to keep alive, but Barbie's grown on you and has been great company in your empty house; you're still more of a dog person, but you've come to appreciate owning a pet that can actually tell you what it wants
>Speaking of which, you lighten up on the tickling
"What's got my pretty girl all excited?"
>Barbie calms down and looks at you with excitement in her eyes
"Mumma! Dewe fwuffies ousside! Can Bawbie gu pway wit dem?"
>Uh oh
"Could you show me them, sweetie?"
"Otay!"
>Barbie runs off into the living room as fast as her little legs can carry her; you follow at a leisurely pace, letting her stay ahead of you
>You try and make sure not to outpace Barbie when she runs: she thinks she's the fastest thing on four legs and gets really mopey when proven wrong
>Barbie bolts across the living room floor and tries to hop up on top of the window box, making it on her third attempt; she excitedly looks through the window out into the front yard, then points her hoof towards your bushes
"Dewe, Mumma! Dewe fwuffy fwiends!"
>Peering at the bushes, you don't see anything at first; maybe Barbie just saw a squirrel or mistook some leaves for an animal..
>Nevermind, just saw a pink fluffy poke its head out of your bush; you watch as more fluffies emerge from your bush, apparently you've got a herd out in your front lawn
>You observe the herd as Barbie tries to wave at them, hoping that the herd will leave on its own; no such luck though, the fluffies seem content to nibble at your grass a little before returning to whatever den they've set up under your bushes
>Barbie, clearly frustrated that the fluffies outside haven't noticed her, looks up at you
"Can Bawbie pwease gu ousside, Mumma? Wan pway wiff nuu fwends!"
>You don't like that idea at all, you've read a lot of horror stories about feral herds: mares being raped by Stallions, Smarty Friends killing domestics for invading "their" land; there's even stories of ferals tricking domestic fluffies into running away from home
>A shudder goes down your spine as you imagine Barbie dying of starvation in the middle of winter; no, you need to nip this in the bud
"I don't think that's a good idea, Barbie. Those look like bad fluffies to me."
>Barbie gets a confused look on her face and looks back at the bush concealing the ferals
"Nu bad fwuffies, awe guud fwuffies. Why Mumma say awe bad fwuffies?"
"Well for one thing, they didn't even ask before they started eating my grass. Do good fluffies take thing without asking?"
"Nuu…"
"And they're so dirty. I bet they haven't had their weekly bath."
"Buh guud fwuffies nee' baff ow aww nu smeww pwetty!"
"That's right! Why, I bet they don't even use a litter box! Oh my poor bushes…"
>A look of utter horror is on her face let's you know Barbie's buying it, lucky for you fluffies are unable to tell the difference between real emotion and hammy acting; she begins puffing her cheeks and banging her hooves against the window, yelling at the ferals outside
"NU! Meanie bad fwuffies nu mek bad poopies on Mumma's bushies!"
>You scoop up Barbie before she can hurt herself: you don't think fluffies are strong enough to break glass, but they're also known for killing themselves in impossible fashions; Barbie continues to struggle in your embrace, still riled at the thought of bad fluffies in your yard
"Alright, alright, calm down girl. Here, you go play with your blocks while Mommy goes and calls a nice person to come teach those meanies how to be nice."
"Otay..."
>You put Barbie down and watch as she waddles towards her blocks, sulkily grumbling to herself
"Dum bad fwuffies… twick Bawbie, nu haff guud huggies ow pway…"
>You feel a little bad for her, you should take her to the park next weekend, let her have some playtime with other fluffies
>Take one last glance at your bushes, still seeing the occasional rustle from fluffy activity, then go in search of your phonebook
>Time to find an exterminator