Daddy loves you, Blue

My mind returned to the porch where Blue and sat. She stirred slightly, and not wanting to disturb her, I just gently rubbed her behind the ear. She always loved that.

Before me, fields and trees of green clouded my sight as we rocked back and forth in the chair.

        “It certainly has been a while, hasn’t it, Blue?” I spoke calmly. Not expecting a response from her, I kept rubbing her ears. “Felt like yesterday that you started exploring the apartment, but it’s already been so long. Time sure flies.”

        My eyes glazed over and I drifted off to the rhythm and sound of us both breathing softly in unison.

o.O.o

The next morning I felt like a miserable wreck. Blue Cloud needed feeding every three hours, so naturally I got up and prepared her bottle. This was all fine except my little filly seemed to have some bad dreams. She flailed around and managed to roll off from the electric blanket. Her distressed chirpings kept me up several times until I comforted her enough to fall back to sleep.

        I moved my bed the evening earlier closer to the wall, so that I could place her new pen in my bedroom for now. The old, piece of garbage cardboard I threw out. Probably not very clean anyway. I took some pictures for memories first though. My old digital camera got the job done, as I never got around buying a smartphone—too expensive.

        Now Blue rested peacefully in her little nest. The blanket I adjusted to keep her from getting too hot during the night. The pen sure looked awesome though. It came with a water bottle — similar to what a rabbit would drink from — a feed box in a nice colour, a nightlight, some toys and a bed. For now she still rested on the electric blanket and towel — for easier clean up — but when she got older, I would introduce the litter box. Also the pen could easily be reconstructed and made bigger, which I planned to do as well.

        I looked at my watch. Guh, five in the morning, far, far too early when you’re off from work, but I imagined parents having similar problems with newborns, albeit for much longer.

        Blue would need another bottle soon, so I figured I would take care of my own morning necessities first while she slept. I showered for about ten minutes, ate some cereals and had an egg sandwich. The coffee I brewed smelled delicious. I prefered mine dark roasted with just a smidge of milk in it. A good thing I stocked up on that.

        A couple of minutes before the alarm hit, Blue Cloud made herself heard over the room. Once again she woke up, tried to get steady and landed on her back. A sign that she would probably start moving around more briskly though. Fluffy ponies grew up rather fast after all.

        Settling her on the right side, I cooed at her while gently holding her. She grasped my hand and hugged it tightly, good, she was becoming accustomed to my voice and touch and probably my smell as well. According to the breeder’s website, Blue Cloud would almost certainly open her eyes and say her first words very soon; I can’t express how excited that made me.

        I stroked her blue fur and set her down on the blanket with Mr. Bunny, whom she immediately embraced. Then I noticed that the plushie as well as Blue Cloud needed another bath, not her fault of course. Normally foals wouldn’t take to the litter box until they were at least three weeks old.

        After feeding and burping Blue, I went through the usual ritual of cleaning her up, adding in some no-tear baby shampoo to make her smell extra nice. She complained, but chirped happily afterwards in her snuggly cloth when she dried off. I think Blue Cloud appreciated smelling pleasant over poopy as well.

While her new bunny friend was out of bounds for her, I took one of the soft blocks and placed it near her. She gurgled softly, putting the red toy in her mouth and sucked on it. That earned a shot with the camera for sure. “Does that taste good, Blue? I can’t imagine, but hey, who am I to judge?”

“Nomnom - chirp -  nomnom,” she said, pure contentment resting on her face.

“If you say so,” I said and shrugged. I scratched her behind her ears and chuckled. After a little while, Blue Cloud tired of noming on the block and spit it out, instead she then unsteadily went up on all four.

Oh damn, I thought and pulled out the camera, putting on video mode. Blue Cloud’s going to take her first real steps!

It started off slowly. She supported her a bit on the block, but soon the little foal waddled around on her little hooves. I think counted ten steps before she slumped down on her stomach, letting out some tiny chirps in what maybe was annoyance. I stopped the video and scooped her up to nuzzle her. “Well done, Blue Cloud; you can almost walk now. I’m so proud of you,” I cooed.

She might’ve been a bit of a late bloomer when it came to walking. Fluffy foals I’ve seen throughout the years usually took to walking pretty quickly; I guess it all had to do with stimulation and practice. The mother - like many others - played a vital part in their upbringing when it came to talking and walking, a fluffy mother never really shut up about her babies though, it was always ‘babies this, babies that’ and ‘pwease mistah, be nyu daddeh fow babbehs and mummah?’

Myself, I had no problem with it. I just declined and took off, but I’ve heard stories about people getting so fed up with the creatures, that they literally cut their tongues out whether they be pets, strays or ferals.

It hit me that Blue would most certainly want a litter of her own one day. I sighed heavily. Hopefully when the time came, I could talk her out of it. Many owners spayed or neutered their fluffies, but sometimes it could backfire and sending them into depression when they reached a mature age. Well that was a long time from now anyway, no use getting grey hairs before I’m fifty.

Blue Cloud then got my attention as she grabbed on to my nose and started smooching it. “Mmeemhdawdee” she let out. Surprised I held her out and looked at her. Time seemed to slow down as her little eyelids moved, revealing a set of deep-blue sapphires.

Her eyes soon adjusted to the dim light, getting a full view of me in her face.

“H-hey there, Blue Cloud. I’m your daddy,” I said nervously. Honestly I had no idea how Blue would react to me. Fluffies usually take well to humans as is in their genetic code, but there was always a chance they’d act scared during first contact.

Blue set my worries aside. “Daddeh?” she gurgled and looked at me expectantly.

“That’s right honey, I’m your daddy and I love you.”

“Daddeh!” she exclaimed and put her small, furry hooves up in a hug-like motion. “Wuv!”

I embraced her gently and returned the gesture, kissing her little nose. “Yes, Blue Cloud. Daddy loves you very much.”

We cuddled and played for hours with her ball and blocks, mostly it ended up in her putting them in her mouth and sucking, but at least I got some hearty laughs and some good pictures out of it. I kept talking to her, about what she was playing with and rewarded her with belly scratching whenever she managed to roll the ball back to me.

“Baww!” she said out loud.

“That’s right, Blue, that’s your ball that daddy got for you.” Some words came easier than others it seemed.

“Wub baww,” she said and chirped happily.

“I’m glad, sweetheart and I can’t wait until we can play around in the apartment together,” I said and pet her belly.

“Hrmmngh,” she responded and scrunched up her face, a trickle of urine and liquid feces spurted from her backside, then she relaxed. “Aaaah.”

        “Err, well. We better work on the litter box idea first I think, but that’ll be a week or two from now,” I said and pinched my nose, just barely dodging getting any of her excrement on my hand. Blue just earned herself another bath, but an idea struck me, what if we make it a game?

        While my little girl was distracted by her toys, I went up and emptied out a plastic container I kept my shampoo in, I scrubbed it out and tapped up some temperate water, just enough to reach her hooves.

        Blue Cloud looked around as I got back, probably wondering where I disappeared to, but she brightened up when I came into the room. “Daddeh!”

        “Hey little girl, guess what we’re going to do? We’re going to play in the bath.”

        She tilted her head, not understanding the idea of what a ‘bath’ was. She would momentarily however. The play part got her though.

        “Pway!” she said and motioned for me to pick her up. I obliged, and together lil’ Stinky and I journeyed to the bathroom. She babbled for awhile until I set her down in the tub, it was big enough for her to move around, but not to escape out of.

The first two or three seconds her brain didn’t register the wetness, but her eyes went big and she started crying. “Nuuuuuu!” Luckily I came prepared, I set down a small rubber deck in her view and squeezed it.

“Look honey, a new friend, Mr. Duck. Quack, quack, I love you, Blue,” I said, impersonating a duck. My duck impressions are the best, don’t you dare.

She stared at the toy for a couple of second, not knowing what to do until I squeezed it again.

Blue Cloud giggled. “Fwend!” she said and dove for the toy and hugged it tightly, rolling onto her back. Perfect. I quickly administered some no-tear shampoo and rubbed it in while she was too busy playing, her poopy bottom clean again in a matter of seconds.

I let her play with Mr. Duck for a little while longer until I lift her up to dry off. She shivered a little, but otherwise the ordeal had gone nicely, hopefully her future baths would go just as smoothly.

I put her back in the pen for some more playtime, but it didn’t take long until she held her tummy and let out a little whimper. “Huu - chirp - huu.”

Already time for another feeding, I stroked her back and told her I would be back with some delicious milk, I noticed her white mane protruding even more than yesterday. I wondered how it would look when it was fully grown out.

A few minutes later I returned to my inconsolable filly, a streak of tears dropping down on her little face as she complained about her little tummy.

I cradled her as I usually do and fed her the bottle, she inhaled it almost rather than drinking, ending it all with some contents smacks of her lips.

“Better now?” I asked after burping her.

“Wuv Daddeh!” she said in response, her vocabulary still limited but I didn’t expect it to take off that quickly either.

“I love you to, Blue Cloud.” She yawned, and I set her down on the little blanket, soon she was fast asleep. “Sleep tight, little angel.”

I looked at the time, ugh, not even noon, but my freaking belly nagged at me like an old wife for neglecting it. I checked the pantry, empty, of course. I sighed. In hindsight I should have gone grocery shopping yesterday. Blue laid still asleep, so I grabbed whatever’s left in the wallet and went for my jacket.

A man in a black tuxedo, silver-blonde crewcut hair and sunglasses stood outside my apartment door, his hand raised as to knock. I froze as he regained his posture and straightened his suit.

“Well, good morning, Robert, where are you going?” he said and took off his spectacles, revealing a pair of grey, calculating eyes. “Don’t tell you forgot I was paying you a visit today?”

Neal. Neal Erickson. He worked together with my old man several years back, and was one of the reasons I could never afford to any luxuries. Whatever paper my father had signed in the past, it gave Neal’s and his ‘colleagues’ the right to cash in on my savings, until the debt was washed away.

Neal had a gift of some sort, he got under your skin, manipulated you in weird ways and sadly he had enough power to back it up with. A word from this man, and he could make sure I never taught children again, he had the contacts necessary. He kept me under his metaphorical thumb so to speak.

“O-of course not, sir,” I said as I quivered before him. Calling someone else sir would make me sick, but Neal’s demeanor silently demanded it. “I thought our appointment was due later this afternoon.” Not a lie, it should have been, but Neal makes his own rules.

“Aah, yes, however I’m far too busy this afternoon, so I moved it up,” he said and leaned in, “you don’t mind, do you?” The threat hung empty in the air, but I hurriedly stepped aside.

“Not at all, please take a seat in the living room, sir,” I said. My left hand trembled as it started reaching for my nose, and I prayed he looked elsewhere, not wanting to show my palpable fear of him. Slightly crooked still, it reminded me of the first and last time I refused him, his underlings made sure of that.

“Very good,” he said and stepped inside. He took a seat in my single armchair and I unceremoniously sat down in the black sofa. “Now, the other reason I’m here earlier is quite simple, one of the boys saw you going out from a record store the other day.”

Figures, so close to the end of the month he had his goons monitoring those who owed them. I felt a chill creeping up on me, as he looked at me suspiciously.

“Now, I usually don’t care what you do in your spare time, but a record store in this era? Sounds off to me. Tell me, boy, are you perhaps having trouble making ends meet, hmm? Are we going to have a problem by the end of the month?” He leaned in and whispered. “Are you spending my fucking money on some piece of shit vinyls?”

Even though it was far from the truth, the ‘fund’ that went to Neal I always kept separate and hidden to give them to his debt collectors. I still shivered as I answered.

“N-no, sir, I-I..err the contrary, you will have your money by the end of the month as always, I was just visiting a friend that works there.” I was sweating profusely at this point, hoping he didn’t catch my bluff and instead thought his presence intimidated me, which it did no doubt.

“Hmm, is that so?” He leaned back in the chair as he eyed me with disgust, but with a flip of the switch it turned into a wrinkled grin. “Good, good!” he exclaimed and patted me on the back, making me wince slightly at the force behind them. “I was worried there for a little while, Robert haha! Well then,” he said and got up, “then I believe everything is in order, yes?”

“Oh, heh, yes everything is just dandy, sir,” I said, laughing nervously in the process.

“Alright then, let’s just cut this brief, I’m a busy person after all,” he said, still keeping the same grin on his face. “I do have some other home visits today I need attend to.”

Words couldn’t describe how relieved I felt as he stood up and walked towards the door, a meeting lasting no more than a mere minute, but one of the worst of my life.

God decided at that point to piss me in the eye, as Neal went through the entrance, I stopped abruptly as a distressed chirp sounded off from behind my bedroom door. Rectifying the moment, I coughed out loud, hoping to disguise the sounds.

Neal turned around his eyebrows furrowed in a quizzical look, then he grinned at me again. “You have a good day now, Robert, I’ll see you some other time,” he spoke, almost honeyed in fact.Then he descended down the stairs, walking out of the entrance of the flat.

I stood completely frozen until I heard him leave, then I slumped to the floor, half-relieved, half scared to death. The heart wrenching crying coming from my bedroom, drowned out by my own pathetic whimpering.

o.O.o

She walked gently through the fields of the dreamscape, her regal mane reflecting in the sparkling rivers of the gossamer realm.

The ethereal plane was conundrum to many scholars and intellectuals in general, portrayed as a ghostly realm that existed parallel to the material plane, overlapping it in a way. Those successful enough to actually travel there, told of a place much like the living world, but unable to interact with their surroundings, and slowly, they felt their consciousness slip away, as if trying to become one with the world.

        Therefore actual interactions with the plane got banned and its studies fell out of practice. To her it was more of a second home, and had been for millennia. A place she traversed to carry out her sacred duty, protecting those who suffered from nightmares induced by traumatic events and soothing their souls from heartache. Sometimes she directly intervened to guide them, but often they needed only someone to relieve them off their bad dreams. This was her task.

        Alerting her senses, a distressed crying snapped her head up. Someone was having an awful dream for her to react this strongly. She focused on the sound, homing in on its origin, a flash of silvery light and she stood outside.

        Blackness surrounded the area of the recipient’s dream, swirling thick and wild, threatening to lash out at her. She recognized the darkness; it had once consumed her very core. Grief, loneliness, helplessness. Whomever stuck in the nightmare suffered as she once had.

She braced herself as she approached the black vortex, her horn now touching it slightly. Argh! The pain was excruciating, and she almost faltered, yet steadied herself and began reciting a spell, no, a lullaby.

The darkness jeopardized her well being, she knew and its swirling form turned into tendrils to grab at her, to swallow her as it did a long time ago, but she had grown stronger with the help of new friends, she would be damned to let another become a victim.

Trying her utmost to quell the nightmare, she urged it to move along, away from this realm, lest it faced eradication.

“You are not wanted here, shadows of doubt and loathing,” she said in between chanting, however, it became apparent they intended to stay.

Oh no you don’t! She braced herself, invoking more raw magic into her horn, turning the soft song into words of power.

“LEAVE!” She commanded, her voice echoing strongly throughout the dreamscape.

Glowing like the northern star, her horn penetrated the vicious blackness. Spreading like wildfire, the light consumed the vortex, banishing the shadows back to their own realm.

She gasped heavily from effort, but still looked at the recipients of the dream. Peculiarly enough, it now glowed dimly of cyan blended with almond flowers, and laughter and happiness exuded from its core.

The princess of the night smiled with genuine joy and carefully withdrew to leave the soothed soul to its innocent dream. Daring not to intrude the peaceful slumbering.

Sweet dreams, little one