Let Them Eat Grass

by Cloudhammer

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Original Character, Comedy
Length: 1614

Sometimes it's better to not be at the top of the food chain.

Ponies hold nearly total sway over the world, from the sky to the earth and even beyond. Many of the races resent this, and scheme to claim a portion of that control for themselves. Some have even come close to toppling the ponies from their position of power.

This is not the story of one of those races.

Submitted for the Equestria Daily "Outside Insight" fanfic contest.

Published 2014-08-13 06:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2014-08-13 06:50:02 UTC

Bah Ram Ewe

Like always, it was the creak of the rusty latch that roused Collin from sleep’s grasp. He lifted his head, blinking blearily as he saw the predawn light outlined around the barn door. The straw he’d fashioned into his bed tugged at his wool as he got to his hooves. Around him the rest of the flock were grumbling and yawning their way awake, and he couldn’t help the yawn of his own in response.

“Oh come on now slowpokes, it’s not that early,” the shepherd’s voice called as the door swung open. “The sun’s already starting to come up.” They trotted into the barn when none of the flock stirred. “Let’s get movin’, there’s plenty of time to be lazy once you’re outside.” They turned and pushed the door all the way open, revealing the expanse of field beyond.

Collin perked up, ears forward and stomach growling as he started moving for the door. The rest of the flock hurried after him as they smelled the scent of dew-laden grass, nearly bowling the shepherd over in their haste. He lowered his head to snag his first mouthful, bleating happily as he chewed. He could hear the rip as other mouths grabbed their own bites, and a murmur of contentment ran through the herd.

“Okay, y’all got a taste,” the shepherd grumbled, good-naturedly nudging sheep aside as he passed by. “Now, think I can get some help from you today? Was hoping to have the south fields cleared of the weeds and high grass.”

Collin swallowed hard, ears flicking in surprise. "But I thought today was shearing day?" he asked plaintively, a ripple of agreement radiating through the flock. "We always get feed on shearing day."

The shepherd rolled his eyes. "Don't be such wee babies about it. You're all grown sheep, and can go one day without feed. The south fields need some more work before they’re ready for planting, and it’s easier for you lot to do it."

Collin glanced behind him at the closest sheep, seeing the same thought in their expressions. “Spread the word,” he muttered, the murmur of agreement spreading as the flock came to a consensus. In unison, every sheep discreetly yawned to get their eyes watering, stuck out their lower lip, and tilted their heads slightly to the left. And finally, for added effect, they let their ears droop despondently.

The shepherd resisted the initial assault of adorable, but finally had to cave in at the ear drooping. "Ach, the sun bake the lot of ya," he grumbled with a wry smile, "If you clear the south fields, I'll put out some feed for you before shearing. But I better not see a single weed in sight, you hear?"

The flock immediately brightened, smiles breaking out as they started to mill toward the south.

Collin grinned as he chewed another mouthful of thistle. The shepherd hadn’t been lying when he said the south fields needed more work; weeds and rogue patches of grass were everywhere. The flock had spread out somewhat as they grazed, though he could feel the quiet murmur of the herd in the back of his head, a whispering that kept him in touch with everyewe.

He relaxed, letting himself go as the whispers became louder, his body moving in time with the rest of the flock as they methodically worked their way through the fields. Every so often, ears would twitch at any unusual sound, eyes along the edge glancing up to ensure safety. There was of course the occasional bleat of conversations among individuals, but each body was in the thrall of the flock.

“But I don’t understand, Mommy. How come the sheep gotta live behind fences?” a voice asked, and a half-dozen ears tracked its source. A mare, the shepherd’s mate, was at the fence watching a filly peer over the slats, a smile on her muzzle.

“Well, Applejack, that’s because we don’t want them getting hurt,” the mare replied. “If we didn’t have fences, then things could sneak in from the Everfree and attack them, or they could wander off and get lost.”

“But ponies don’t live behind fences, and we don’t get lost.” the filly said, furrowing her brow in confusion. “It don’t seem right.”

“Oh really? Then how come I couldn’t find you when it was time for your bath last night?” the mare replied with a laugh. “Don’t let it get to you, Applejack. It’s just how things are. Now come on, it’s almost time for lunch. Let’s go find your brother.”

“Okay, Mom.” The filly dutifully followed after her mother, only sparing the flock a single glance as they crested the hill to the farmhouse.

Collin watched them go, idly chewing his mouthful. He didn’t really understand what the filly meant either. He’d spent his entire life behind the fence, but had never questioned it before. Sure, he’d tried to stick his head through the slats to get some particularly juicy grass, but no further than that.

“Something wrong, Collin?” a voice interrupted his thoughts, and he realized he’d stopped as the flock was trying to continue along the fence. Beside him, Esme stared curiously, a few other sheep looking up from their grazing.

“N-no,” he replied, lowering his head to take another mouthful, “was just thinking.”

“Oh, good.” She smiled, nipping at an itch on her leg. “No sense in holding things up. Want plenty of time for shearing and the feed, after all.”

Collin nodded, though he couldn’t stop the swirl of thoughts that kept moving through his head as the flock continued grazing.

The shepherd squinted as he lined up his leg, and with a practiced slice carved away another lump of tangled wool. The barn floor was littered with clumps of white, the breeze wafting them about.

Collin was in heaven. He lay on his side, uncaring of the scratchy hay as the shepherd made another cut. “Oh, that’s the spot,” he wheezed, eyes half-closed.

“Aye, you did good, lad,” the shepherd replied as he continued to trim away the wool. “South fields are lookin’ mighty fine, and as promised, I got some nice, tender hay set aside in the pen for ya.”

Collin couldn’t help the small frown that crossed his muzzle as the thoughts from the afternoon boiled up again at the mention of the pen. He’d tried to lose himself in the flock as they grazed, but something about the way the filly had asked her mother troubled him. Or maybe it was the mother’s answer that bothered him more. Why did the ponies get to walk about, without fence to confine them?

“Alright, you’re done,” the shepherd said, and Collin realized that his coat was fully sheared, the breeze tickling his exposed skin. “Now off you go with the others, don’t want them to eat all the hay, do you?” He tapped Collin on the flank, and with a grunt, Collin shuffled toward the pen, while the shepherd beckoned for the next sheep in line.

Collin stared at the trampled dirt as he made his way into the press of bodies around the hay piles, mouth watering as the smell reached his nostrils. He grabbed his first mouthful, and the expected explosion of sweetness washed over his tongue, but he didn’t feel himself swept up in the flock’s enjoyment of their treat. The brooding thoughts continued to stir and froth inside his head, and he shook his head with a frustrated bleat.

“Collin, what in the name of the Fields has gotten into you?” Esme asked crossly, swallowing her mouthful. “You’ve been like this ever since midday.”

“Why do we have to live behind the fences, Esme?” Collin asked. “How come the ponies get to go wherever they want?” He stamped a hoof. “It’s not fair.”

Esme stared incredulously at him, then abruptly burst into laughter. “Is that what this is about? Collin, you silly ram, it’s perfectly fair the way things are. Did you ever think about how the ponies are always working? The pegasi tend the weather, the earth ponies tend the world, and the unicorns tend the elements. They work hard all the time, and don’t even have a proper herd to turn to for support.”

She pointed around with a hoof. “Meanwhile, consider the flock. We get to graze every day, only occasionally have to lend the shepherd a hoof when he’s overwhelmed, and have the guarantee of safety. We have a warm barn to sleep in at night, and above all else, we have the flock to keep us from being lonely. And in exchange, all we have to give the ponies is the wool we’d drop in the field anyway. So really, it’s the ponies who do all the work for us, to make the world a better place.”

Collin blinked. “I… didn’t think of it like that…”

“Of course you didn’t,” Esme replied with a smirk. “That’s why I’m older than you.”

Collin opened his mouth to protest about the sense in that, but decided against it and reached for another mouthful of hay. Maybe Esme was right, he had to admit things were rather easygoing for them compared to how hard the shepherd seemed to work. Sure, maybe there was a bigger world out there, but there was something to be said for sticking with what they had.

”If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” he’d overheard the shepherd say one day, and he realized how true it was. Shrugging his ears, he chewed contentedly on his hay, surrounded by the comforting warmth of the flock. No sense in breaking what worked, after all.