Smarty and Ichabod (Funk's Foals 11 contest entry)

Teatime42, November 1, 2013; 11:54 / FB 14667
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Every society and culture has an equivalent of a “Storyteller”.
Most of the time, it's hard to find fluffies that do outside of larger more established herds.
But, if you do find one of these herds, and if you were to somehow manage to find one of these storyteller fluffies, you might just find the one I did.
An old fluffy, old of body, sharp of mind.
According to him, he's almost 15 years old.
And he told me stories.
Stories of Sunshine and rainbows, love and children. Stories Fluffies love to hear.
And then, when the time was right, and the sun was directly overhead. And certain rites had been done to ward off those who would be named.
He told me of darkness and fear. Stories that they don't even tell their children, for fear that they might call such evils upon them
Stories of a Carnival, lights and colors bright, but with dark shadows waiting.
Stories of creatures that can't exist.
Stories of a forgotten, nameless warrior.
Events that cannot have taken place.
These stories have themes.
Be careful, it's dangerous for fluffies out there.
Humans cannot always be trusted, and when they cannot, everyone is doomed.
He is the last of his herd to remember them, his herd has none with his skill for memory.
When he passes, his stories die with him.
Most of his stories couldn't have happened, likely never did.
But some of his stories...
Some bear a striking resemblance to events that humans themselves have passed down.
Themes humans have passed down.
Which begs the question.
Where did the fluffies learn it?

In a Distant Land, there was a group of Fluffies.
They laughed and played the day away. Never worrying, never fearing.
They had their children, they lived their lives.
Free.
And this is where our story starts, with two fluffies in particular.
One went by the name Ichabod, the other Smarty.
Ichabod was a Fluffy's Fluffy. He was extra greedy, extra whiney, and extra EXTRA stupid.
Normally, a herd would get rid of a Fluffy as useless as him.
Except Smarty was his brother.
And while Ichabod was useless, his brother was anything but.
Smarty was cold, and hard, but he was fair and led his herd well.
And for that, he was liked and trusted by his herd.
And Smarty loved that he was liked.
One day, Ichabod came across a stray fluffy while gathering food.
She was pink, mostly clean, and very very nice.
After playing for a bit, and eating what he had, he brought her to the herd and his brother.
“Mae name am Cwawice! Wat yu fwuffies names?” She asked sweetly.
“Fwuffy am Smawty. Dis am Swawty's hewd.” Smarty answered.
“Ooh.” She cooed, “Smawty sound so smawt, Cwawice join hewd?”
“Yes” Said Smarty.
Smarty quickly grew to love Clarice, his heart thawing just a bit.
And he wasn't the only one, the entire herd grew to love her as well.
She would help anyone and everyone, she was always had a joke or story ready to bring a smile to someone's face.
And if that failed, she loved to give hugs, and everyone was more than happy to give her hugs back.
One night, Smarty decided to ask her to be his Special Friend.
And she accepted.
Estatic, Smarty went and found her some flowers to celebrate.
But when he returned, she was gone.
He asked around, and discovered that she had left to go for a walk on her own.
Something she was wont to do, a habit an oddly large number of the herd had picked up.
After a few minutes of walking, he heard a noise and followed it.
It led him to the bridge.
He couldn't quite make out the noise, so he moved into view.
And stared in shock.
There was Clarice.
And there was his Brother.
And he recognized the noise now.
Clarice looked up at him, and yelled.
“Hewp! Hewp Cwawice! Bad spshial huggies! Hewp!”
He looked at his brother, who hadn't even missed a motion.
Neither did Smarty, and in seconds, he had his brother down on the bridge, blood coating his hoofs.
His brother begged, and protested his innocence.
Smarty would hear none of it.
He had protected his brother from his herd's displeasure for years, he had cared for his brother since they were foals.
And this is how he was repayed.
With a strong press of his hoof to Ichabod's nexk, it was over.
And Smarty stepped back, and odd feeling in his chest, a cold chill that would not go away.
Clarice nuzzled him, and smiled at him.
“Nao, smawty weave hewd.”
Smarty could barely believe what he had heard.
“Bhut Hewd need Smawty, why smawty weave wid Cwawice?”
“Siwwy fwuffy. Cwawice nu weave, jus smawty.”
Smawty stared, dumbfounded as Clarice began continued, smiling.
“Oh no, Hewd, Hewp Cwawice. Smawty try an gib bad shpeciaw huggies to Cwawice, Ichybod twy to hewp, but Smawty gib Wongest Sweepies. Hewp. Hewp. Hewp.”
“Wut, but dat Ickybod! Smawty nu do dat! Why Cwawice do dis? Hewd nu bewiebe yu!” Smarty said, as he finally found his voice.
“Hewd nu beliebe? Why nawt? Smawty beliebe Cwawice wen Cwawice say dat Ickybod gib bad schpeciw huggies, why nawt Hewd?”
Smarty almost choked in horror.
“Icky..Ickybod nu do bad...”
“Nu, Ickybod do bad. He give bad schpeciaw huggies, but dat because he bad at it, not because Cwawice did't want dem. Cwawice asked him to gib schpeciw huggies.”
She drew closer, and Smarty flinched away.
“Jus wike Cwawice get Schpeciaw huggies fwom all da fwuffies in da hewd. Hewd wiww bewiebe Cwawice. Hewd wuvs Cwawice.”
The chill in Smarties chest spread, the warmth he had gained disappeared, until the chill became a pain.
He gasped, trying to force down air, seemingly unable to breath.
“Bhu, but why? Why du dis?”
Clarice smiled again, all kindness gone from her face. Cruelty and greed shining through.
“Cwawice no be stway. Cwawice be Smawty nao. Hewd wike Owd Smawty, but nawt nao. Hewd WUVS Cwawice. Cwawice make suwe of dat. An wit yu kiwwing yu bwuddah... Bettew wun dummeh fwuffy. Dis Cwawice's hewd nao.”
She turned, and started to walk away.
Smawrty starred after her.
Eyes unseeing.
His brother was gone.
He had killed his brother, his innocent brother.
His love had betrayed him.
His herd had betrayed him.
He had betrayed his brother.
In a second, he was upon her.
She screamed, and struggled.
Stronger than him, better fed, she bruised him battered him.
Then she broke him.
Then she left him.
The chill continued to spread.
He knew it now.
It was sleep, and it was taking him.
Just as it had his brother.
He could feel nothing below his neck.
His vision blurred, but he could see a Fluffy approach.
Was it Clarice?
He heard a voice.
Would you stand? Would you take your revenge upon her and those who would abandon you?
But I cannot stand, he thought, I will never stand again.
The voice came again.
I can furnish you with a body. Will you take your revenge?
Yes, he thought.
The pain was instant, and excruciating.
He seemed to float up into the air.
You have a mind, but lack a body. The voice said.
His vision cleared, and he saw a Fluffy in front of him.
It was a plain looking fluffy, almost normal looking.
Except for his eyes, which were an almost glowing yellow.
Smarty looked back, and saw his battered body down below him, but it worried him naught.
It excited him.
His chill thawed, and in it's place, a fire raged.
Then his brother's body began to move, and it's head fell off. It walked to him, and Smarty turned.
Your brother's body has no head, the voice said.
The yellow-eyed Fluffies mouth didn't move, except to smile.
And a moment later, he felt his body again.
Not just his body, his brother's body.
His brother wasn't dead, he hadn't killed him.
His brother was right here with him, and would be forever more.
“Smawty am nawt smawty anymowe, hewd weft smaw...me.”
The former smarty said, a smile stretching across his face.
“Onwy bwothews hewe nao. Fwuffies awe Ickybod.”
The next day, a human out walking it's fluffy found the herd.
A few pieces of each fluffy, not even enough to make half of the herd.
Fluff of every color, except they never found any pink.

And on cold nights, when fluffies are mean to fluffies, or cruel to fluffies.
A new fluffy will appear.
There will be no noise.
No screams.
Nothing left.