Deaf Ears

ThreeRoadsDiverged, August 11, 2015; 20:43 / FB 33028
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Deaf Ears


"C... cow'..."

"Daw'... 'Cawy..."

"Owwie... Mikkie..."

"Muh... Peep... Muhmuh... Dehdeh..."

"M-Mommy sowwy, b-b-babies," a nameless fluffy mare stammered. "M-M-Mommy fin' n-new home soon. P-p-pwomise."

While the mare was still hopeful, she was well aware that the promise was beyond her ability to keep. Both she and her late partner were mere months old when they conceived so neither had any idea what winter was, never mind that it was just around the corner. Since then the stallion had succumbed to the elements while scavenging, collapsing just outside their shelter with a mouthful of food for his mate. With the mare's meager rations depleted and the rapidly dropping temperature taking its toll, she could see no other chance at survival than to take her week-old foals into the suburbs and hope a kindhearted human would show them mercy.

Had the mare began her quest earlier in the day, she might have had the time to succeed. As it was, however, she found herself trudging through a layer of fresh snow in the dead of night. Her four surviving foals were stashed away in her back fluff, clinging to her thick winter coat with whatever strength they could muster, but it did little to insulate them against the biting cold and nothing to distract them from their rumbling stomachs.

The mare went door to door, as systematically as a fluffy pony can manage, asking the residents if they would be the new mother or father of her and her foals. All of them turned her away, some more gently than others. The best she could hope for was a rote explanation as to why the person couldn't adopt them. More often the door was simply slammed shut, sometimes as soon as the homeowner realized they were being bothered by yet another homeless fluffy. One person went so far as to kick the mare off his front step, which in turn sent the foals flying into the snow. The foals were unharmed by the ordeal, aside from being colder and wetter than before, but the mare had already learned that cold could be deadly and scrambled to recover her scattered litter.

Perhaps the closest the mare got to her goal was at the home of a young woman willing to take in one - and only one - of the foals.

"Now then," the woman began, crouching down to the mare's level, "which of these babies is your 'bestest baby'?"

"Wha...?" The mare tilted her head to the side, perplexed. "M-Mommy no unna-sand. Aww b-babies awe good babies. No have b-bestes'."

The woman sighed. "Okay, let's try a different approach." The mare tensed up as the woman reached into her fluff, but relaxed when she saw a colt snuggling happily into the woman's hand. "Why did you keep this foal?"

A confused expression returned to the mare's face. "'C-cause baby is onwy w-wittow baby. S-stiww nee' Mommy."

"But isn't it the color of 'poopies'?" The mare hadn't really thought about it before, but the woman was right. The colt's coat was the same color as the waste they all ran out of earlier that day.

The mare spent several seconds staring at the colt, processing this new information, before turning to the woman and asking "So? B-baby is stiww good baby. Why is f-fwuff cowah 'powten'?"

The woman sighed, tossing the brown colt onto the mare's back. "Just like all the rest," she muttered. "Why can't more mares be like Prima Donna?" While the mare fretted over her colt's safety, the woman looked through the available selection before plucking a filly out of her mother's fluff. "I think I'll take this one."

Upon seeing the filly in the woman's hand, the mare tentatively asked "D... Dat baby get w-wawm housie an' wots o' m-miwkies now, w-wight?"

"Oh, sure," the woman said offhandedly. The beginnings of a wicked grin then appeared on her face as she spoke to the foal. "I am going to have so much fun with you..."

"G-goodbye, baby." The mare waved farewell to the filly as the door swung shut. Given the woman's odd behavior, the mare couldn't help but wonder if the filly would truly be safe. Upon turning around, however, the bleak reality she faced drove such paranoid fantasies out of the mare's mind. She was certain that anything was a step up from the living nightmare they'd endured thus far.

It was nearly midnight when the mare made her way to her final house. All the lights were off, but this didn't deter her. She had been to several such houses already, so she figured she would just have to apologize for waking up the residents. Once in the shelter of the porch, the mare took a moment to shake the snow off her legs before tapping on the front door.

"H-hewwo?" The mare projected her voice as best she could given her fatigue. "C-can fwuffies c-come in? M-Mommy have wittow babies, b-b-but no have nummies to m-make miwkies. A-an'... An' is weawwy, w-weawwy cowd! M-Mommy no wan' babies t-t-to take fowevah sweepies, w-wike speciow fwen'."

The mare paused, hoping for a reply, but the only activity came from her foals. They no longer had the energy to think, never mind putting thoughts into words, and so just chirped mindlessly whenever their discomfort overrode their exhaustion. These desperate cries drove the mare to desperation herself, as she began scraping her hoof on the door and raised her voice further.

"P-pwease wet fwuffies in! O-o' jus' babies! B-babies onwy nee' f-fwuffy-mommy fo' m-m-miwkies! I-if nice mistah o' w-wady have miwkies, d-d-den can jus' take babies a-an' Mommy wiww weave! B-bu' pwease no weave b-babies out heah in d-da cowd wif no m-miwkies!"

As the mare's pleads faded, the air was once again filled with the sound of chirping foals and little else. The mare couldn't hear anyone inside shuffling about, and there certainly weren't any lights turning on. For a moment the mare wondered if nobody was home, but that thought was quickly brushed aside. She figured that nobody in their right mind would leave the safety of their home during winter without a very good reason, especially after dark. She was only out and about herself because she knew her foals wouldn't last long without outside assistance. No, the only answer that made sense to her was that the residents were still sleeping, in which case she just needed to do a better job at making herself heard.

Her confidence renewed, the mare looked around the porch for a safe place to put her foals before making a racket. She ended up pulling a cushion off an old rocking chair, hoping that it would keep them warm and comfortable, and leaning towards it until the foals tumbled off her. The mare gave them a quick hug to ease their distress before returning to the front door, rearing up and pounding on the door with her forehooves, shouting louder than ever.

"P-PWEASE HEWP FWUFFIES! BABIES AWE G-GOOD BABIES, A-AN' MOMMY ONWY WAN' W-WHAT BESTES' FO' BABIES! BABIES NEE' MIWKIES AN' W-WAWM SAFE PWACE, AN' MOMMY NO CAN G-GIVE BABIES WHA' BABIES NEE'! P-PWEASE HEWP!"

The mare continued on like this for some time, expending what little energy she had to make as much noise as possible. It wasn't long before she exhausted herself, at which point she realized her foals were chirping louder than usual. Her first response was to feed them, but by the time she reached them she remembered that her teats dried up long ago. With no milk to offer, the mare scooped her offspring up and hugged them as close to her chest as she could.

"Mo- *cough cough* ...Mommy sowwy, babies." The mare's voice had grown weak and raspy. "M-Mommy no mean to sca- *cough* scawe babies. Wan' songie? Mo- *cough* -mmy woves babies, babies wo- *cough* -ve Mommy..." The mare struggled against her taxed vocal cords to give her three foals what little comfort she could. The rough song seemed to put brown colt at ease, but one of his siblings was too busy shivering and the other just gaped noiselessly in hunger.

When the mare finally reached the end of her song, she realized that the house hadn't changed a bit. No lights, no noise, nothing. While she couldn't understand why nobody heard her, she did know that time was running out for her and her foals. Not thinking clearly enough to consider moving on to a new house, the mare resolved to find her own way inside; She could always apologize for trespassing later and was willing to accept any punishment so long as her foals were safe.

The mare briefly tried pushing the front door open, but to no avail. Realizing she would have to find another way in, the mare rolled over and put her foals on her side, nudging them towards her back. The brown colt still had the energy to move, but the others merely chirped in protest. Unable to carry both with her mouth, the mare returned the two foals to the cushion. "Mommy be *cough* back soon wif new m-mommy o' da- *cough* daddy. J-jus' wait heah fo' *cough* Mommy"

With only a single foal in tow, the mare began her trip around the house in search of an entrance. Her body was nearly on autopilot, trudging forward more on willpower than anything else. In the end, however, the trip accomplished nothing, except perhaps to drain the mare of whatever strength she might have had left. There were no basement windows for her to fall into and no holes to let her take shelter under the porches. The back door gave her a brief flicker of hope, but she could find no way of opening it on her own. When she finally circled around, her only thought was how she was going to apologize to her foals for her failure. After dropping off the colt, the mare scooped all three foals up.

But she immediately knew something was wrong.

The brown colt was the only foal moving, and even then mostly on reflex. The other two were not only motionless, but cold and rigid, not even breathing.

"No," the mare squeaked. "No, no, no, NO!" The mare began rocking back and forth, cradling the lifeless foals as tears froze in her fluff. "Ba... Babies no can t-take fowe- *cough* sweepies! Babies a-awe so cwose to safe pwace! I-is... Is no faiah! Is no fai- *cough cough*"

The mare soon found herself at a loss for words, instead simply hacking and sobbing until a weak "Eep..." snapped her out of her grief-stricken daze.

"B... Baby..." The mare had nearly forgotten that one foal still clung to life, if only barely. Pushing her sorrow aside, she set the two tiny corpses down and carried the colt to the front door. She was still contemplating how to get inside when her eyes fell on a feature she'd completely overlooked before: A mail slot.

Having seen the devices used in the past, the mare pushed the outer flap up with her muzzle and her final foal through with her hooves. The colt cried out against the cold metal, but his mother prodded him on until he was far enough inside for gravity to take over. The colt squealed from the fall, leading the mare to wonder if she had done more harm than good. Such fears were laid to rest when she heard the foal chirping from inside, more from fear than pain.

With the last of her brood finally safe, the mare finally gave in to her enervation and collapsed. Part of her wanted to crawl over to the other foals, the ones she failed to save, and curl up with them for one long, final nap. As it was, however, she simply didn't have the energy, and even if she did she was quickly going numb from the cold. All the mare could do was stare at the empty street and await either a miracle or the inevitable.

While she was certainly thankful that at least some of her foals still had a chance at survival, there was one thing that still bothered the dying mare. A bright light filled her vision as she pondered her final thought: Why couldn't the people inside hear her?

~~~~~~~


It was past midnight and Natalie Raleigh couldn't wait to get home. She'd just finished one of the longest work days she could remember and wanted nothing more than to grab a bite to eat and curl up in her nice, soft, warm bed. As she pulled up to her house, Natalie noticed that her sister's car was gone. "Must have left on her trip a little early," she muttered as she shut her headlights off. "At least she won't tease me about being out all night."

Natalie was glad she dressed warmly as she walked up to the front porch, especially once she spotted a small lump in front of the door. It was a fluffy pony, and apparently a dead one. Natalie prodded the corpse with her boot a couple of times just to be sure. Next to the deceased was a pair of foals, no doubt also dead, laying on a cushion. Natalie couldn't help but wonder if she could have at least saved the adult had she arrived just a few minutes earlier. While she didn't care much for fluffies herself, her sister had been talking about adopting one.

But it was too late to do anything now, and even if it wasn't Natalie was simply too tired to care. She pushed the fluffy's body aside and opened the door, being greeted with a short, sharp "Eee-" as she stepped inside. Feeling a lump beneath her, Natalie lifted her foot to see the crushed remains of a brown fluffy foal.