BluntTongs - Sepia the FoalSitter

>Your name is Sepia
>and you happen to be leading three little moth fillies back toward your (rather unremarkable) home
>what you'll do with them when you get there is a bit fuzzy, but you'll do something, that's for certain
>the three fillies in question are named Orange Pop, Flower Tart, and Dandelion, though you're not too familiar with the names
>all you know is that the local foalsitter Butterscotch had to go on a trip to the market for a couple hours
>she promised you twenty bits for the job
>sure, you didn't know how to handle kids, but you need the money
>you had wondered what on earth was keeping her from taking them to the market with her
>in the last fifteen minutes walking back home, however, you had found out quite fast
>they're an incredibly rambunctious group of fillies
>and even that would be an understatement, really
>you're just glad you won't have to keep them from smushing frogs and belittling insects in the relative safety of your house
>speaking of which, you've arrived at your destination

>You turn to the little foals trotting alongside you, and begin your speech that you were composing on the walk back
>y'know, lay the foundation for the rules and such
>you open the door to your humble cottage, and step inside the frame before you deliver the list of mandates, still facing the foals
"Now, I'd like to make one thing very cl-"
>"C'mon, girls! Let's make ourselves at home!"
>of course, this did not stop them from knocking you over and running inside with laughter
>maybe you should have given your speech before you got home
>oh, well...
>at least the carpet's soft
>Sighing (and rubbing the new bruises on your forelegs), you shut the door behind you with a small kick from your back leg
>as you ease yourself off the carpet, you notice nothing of interest in the living room
>that is to say, you don't see anyone at all
>bearing in mind that you're supposed to keep an eye on a group of kids, this isn't a good thing at all
>in fact, you don't hear even a peep from them
>...
>they must be in the spare bedroom
>(you always lock the door to your room, that's private stuff there)
>not bothering to call out (you're certain they're in that spare room!), you head out down the main hallway
>sure enough, the door to the spare is closed (you like to keep it open, it lets you feel more safe when you know what's in the room)
>it's irrefutable; they're in there
>you think you just heard the word 'robber'
>what could they possibly be up to?
>children are so astounding sometimes!
>not wanting to keep yourself waiting on the answer, you hurriedly push against the door...
>...There's nothing but the extra bed and dresser waiting for you
>huh
>you could've sworn they'd be in h-
>your thoughts are interrupted with the application of a large weight to your back
>your eyes are covered by what appear to be thin wings, filling your vision with grey
>she must have been hiding on the ceiling just above the entryway, whomever she is
>"I've got her, quick! Get the rope, Dandy!" Orange Pop's voice calls out
>oh, now what?
>answering your question, you're shoved into what you can only assume is an old chair you forgot about
>and rope is wrapped 'round your rear hooves and chest (along with your forehooves), tying you to the chair, effectively incarcerating you
>finally, after some (rather uncomfortable) adjusting of knots, the ashen curtain lifts itself from your vision
>before you stands Flower Tart, grinning with pure joy
>off to your left, Dandelion's still trying to tighten a knot
>and, though you can't see her, you're pretty sure that Orange is standing on the back of the chair
"Alright, what's going on here?"
>Orange is the first to respond, but not in the direct sense of the word
>"YAY! Robbers win! Robbers win!"
"W-what?"
>you're absolutely bewildered at these events
>Flower Tart answers your question
>"Haven't you ever played "Cops and robbers" before? You told us you'd play with us!"
"Um..."
>"Yeah, Dandelion remembers that she told Dandelion "Yeah, sure" on the trip here!" the long-antenna-ed foal responds
>...maybe you should pay more attention to questions little fillies ask you
>"Well, if she does know how to play..." Flower begins
>"...Then she should know that she's gotta be the 'Robber' now!"
"Wait, wha-"
>"Do you have any nightsticks or tasers we could use as the 'Cops'?"
>Your eyes shoot open in panic at the thought of a filly using such things, on you no less!
"Erm, well, I, uh-"
>"Oh, Flower!" Orange pipes up
>"I think I saw a locked door near the end of the hallway! D'you think she'd keep some in there?"
>that kicks you out of your stammering stupor
"Wait! Aren't you a bit hungry from all this activity?"
>genius, absolute genius! They'd never suspect you're just diverting their attention from your room with a question like that!
>Dandelion, Saturniidae bless her, takes the bait
>"Yeah, Dandelion hasn't eaten since breakfast!"
>hook, line, and sinker
"Do you think you could untie me now?"
>Orange Pop and Dandelion do so, deftly moving your bindings through each other and loosening them
>ahh, freedom! Such a wonderful thing it is!
"Alright, now march yourselves to the kitchen, young ladies!"
>they zip off through the door, leaving you to sigh with relief
>that was almost TOO close

>You trot into the kitchen and see the little mothfillies looking at you anxiously
"So, uh, you like ramen, right?"
>After a timely supper, Orange Pop, Dandelion, and Flower Tart all crawl up on the living-room sofa to rest
>rest, of course, meaning sleep
>it's oddly cute how fillies are when they're sleeping all bunched together like that
>as you wonder if they'd actually use nightsticks or tasers on a real pony, the doorbell rings
>you head over to the door, creaking it open
>"Hello, Sepia!"
>it's Butterscotch, of course
>"I'm back from the market. I hope the children weren't too troublesome...?"
"Not at all, Miss."
>that's only a half-lie
>"Oh, wonderful, I knew I could trust you to take care of them! Now, I may have to run to the market tomorrow, do you think you could...?"
"Oh, no, I've got, uh, 'important' things to attend to tomorrow."
>"That's fine, dear. Maybe Virgo will care for them, I heard he's good with children."
>she leans through the doorway
>"Oh, girls!" she calls
>the three foals perk up at the call, nigh-instantaneously wide awake
>"Time to go, now. Say goodbye to Sepia!"
>she whispers to you;
>"And here's your money."
>as she hands you twenty bits exactly
>the young moths zip through the doorway to the darkening outside world, Butterscotch right behind them
>the group turns and calls out in unison;
>"Goodbye, Sepia!"
>and they all journey off into the darkness, leaving you by yourself

>It's been a tiring two hours
>being tied up is not fun at all
>Now, you only wish for some rest
>you unlock the door to your room with a small key you keep hidden away, and open the door
>locking the door behind you, you turn toward your fluffy bed
>you flutter up onto the mattress, and lie down on your back
>you let sleep engulf you, easing away the tension in your muscles
>it was a good day, today