author:differential_Sloth dogs eaten_alive explicit fluffies_die foals_die herd_dies smarty_dies snipen's_a_good_job_mate tagme

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Long distance

By differential_Sloth


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A group of fluffies barely a dozen strong marched across the dry brown grasslands in the omnipresent midday heat. In the temperate winter only a few months ago their old herd was far greater in size, nearly fifty in total, and lived a reasonably comfortable life near the banks of a stony creek. Danger, from wild animals and human hunters was always present, but the herd persisted despite them. They grew their numbers and kept their home safe from the threats they could fight. But like the rest of the country, they were powerless against nature itself.

A drought previously confined to the harsh interior spread beyond the Great dividing range and marched towards the coastlines. The rain came every other day, then every other week until it stopped coming at all. With the rain went the creeks, dams and all but the healthiest rivers. As weeks passed, the herd saw the water flow slower and slower, and the banks grow. The fluffies were concerned, but so long as the creek kept flowing, they could endure.

It didn't.

One day the herd woke to see their creek had stopped flowing altogether, leaving only stagnant pools along the watercourse. Fear grew among them, with younger fluffies starting to panic. The older members of the herd, the smarty and his lieutenants mainly did their best to keep order and discipline. The creek was just sleepy or maybe a little sick, and things would go back to normal soon. Until then, everyone had to ensure they didn't drink too much; it had to last.

At first, discipline held and life carried on, but it wasn't long until a new problem reared its head; temperature. September brought the start of spring in the southern hemisphere; each day was a little hotter than the last. There was still the occasional cold snap and overcast day, but it did little to stop the temperature rising. It didn't take much of an increase to affect the fluffies with their over thick coats. Daily activities slowed since the heat made it challenging to work with so much body hair. Many spent long stretches of time lying still, panting like their distant dog ancestors.

More heat inevitably brought more thirst. The smarty tried to stick to strict rationing but was quickly forced to provide more access to the remaining water, priority given to young fluffies and nursing mares. The compromise held for a time, but the temperature kept climbing and the days grew long. Tormented by thirst, individuals gave in to temptation. Here and there when no one was looking, they'd drink more than they should have. But only a little bit; maybe a little more if the day was unusually hot.

The guilty knew what they were doing was wrong, but told themselves so long as it was just a little extra water and so long as it was only them doing so, there'd be enough for everyone until the creek flowed again. It would, once the drought broke, but that time would come long after a tragedy of the commons destroyed the herd.

One of the pools shrank until what remained was unfit to drink, and another not long after. The heat climbed and made everything worse. Trees dropped leaves trying to survive, letting more sunshine on the creek bed; it increased evaporation, leaving less water to quench the herd's thirst, made worse by the heat. Rations were tightened and violations more strictly enforced. Toughies were posted by the remaining pools day and night to stop over-drinking.

It wasn't just the fluffies who were suffering from lack of water. In a bid to survive the drought, many plants went dormant until better, wetter times; others just died. The nummie finders' trip yields plummeted, a problem compounded by a reduced search range from heat and lack of water. Harsh rationing was extended to the herd's food stockpile, and while impressive compared to their water supply, it wasn't enough.

As summer approached, the food stockpiles shrank along with the water. Rations were cut back to one small helping of food every day. Adults often gave some or all of their allowance to their foals, but the young fluffies couldn't be satisfied. Their cries of hunger stabbed at the hearts of mares, and many set out on desperate journeys for extra food; some didn't return. No one wanted to admit it, but that was welcome; fewer fluffies meant the dwindling stocks would last a little longer. Soon enough, older fluffies turned up dead. Occasionally a foal would go missing, usually one on the smaller side. Harsh measures, but necessary for the herd to survive.

Summer wasn't even close, and the situation was desperate; there were but a few pools of water left, and food rations were at starvation levels. Dehydrated, starving fluffies sat listlessly in whatever shady sanctuary they could find. The inaction, severe dryness and ever-present heat frayed their minds. There were whispers of the water never coming back, that the smarty had somehow made it mad. A sense of dread settled over the herd; stallions and mares feared for their foals, all of who seemed to have stopped growing, and everyone feared for the future.

The first crack came at one of the pools when a stallion in line thought he saw another herd member drink too much.

'Hey!!' He pulled out of line and marched forward. 'Dat dummeh dwink tuu much wawa!!' Before the toughies could react, the stallion booted the young colt out of the way.

'Screee!!'

'Nu huwt babbeh!!' The colt's father confronted the stallion and struck out with his hooves. The fight was short and brutal, charged by the participant's fear and anger, forcing its way out. By the time the toughies broke it up, four fluffies were horribly wounded; the stallion who'd started it and the colt who drew his ire was among them. Looking at the broken bones and coughed up blood, signs of mortal injuries, the toughies put the four out of their misery before anyone could do anything.

'NUUUU!!' The colt's father screamed as a pair of hooves came down on the young fluffy's neck. 'BABBEH!! BABBEH NUUUU!!!' The stallion pushed the toughie aside, and desperately hugged his dead foal. 'WAAHHHUHUHU!! NUUUUU!!!' he screamed and cried for ages, but few cared; four dead fluffies meant a slightly better chance for them, at least until it all exploded.

'WAKE UP!! HEWD NEE WAKE UP NAO!!!'

Fluffies piled out of their dens, ready for anything. Or rather, almost anything. A group of stallions were crowded around a toughie, one of the senior toughies at that. He sported many wounds, and it looked like one of his legs was broken. One of the stallions addressed the growing crowd. 'Dis dummeh take mowe wawa an nummies fow him!!' His words stunned the herd into silence for a few seconds.

'MUNSTAH!!'

'DUMMEH POOPIE FWUFFY!!'

'HACHEW! HACHEW HACHEW HACHEEWW!!!!'

Some rushed forward to strike at the toughie, furious at the supposed theft. By one of the those who enforced the rationing!!

'Nu, pwease!! Fwuffy nu du id!! Nu take mowe *smack* Screeee!!!' An enraged mare kicked him in the shoulder. 'Hewp!! Hewp fwuffy!!!'

'Wat yu dummehs duin!!?' The smarty and his lieutenants rushed to put themselves between the stallions restraining the toughie and the rest of the herd.

'Dis dummeh take mowe nummies an wawa!!' The leader yelled.

'He nu du dat!' The smarty retorted. 'Yu dummehs am wong! Dat tuffy-'

'He take dem!!' The mob leader yelled back. Fwuffy see him du id!! Aww fwuffies see id!!!' His followers shouted encouragement and confirmations.

'Wet him go dummeh!!' The smarty commanded. 'Yu wisten tu Smawty nao!!'

'Nu!' The insurrection leader stood firm. 'Nu am gun wet dummeh go!! Maybe,' he turned to the crowd, 'Smawty make dis dummeh take nummies an wawa so Smawty can hav dem!' If he'd known the reaction those words would provoke, he might not have used them.

'GET DEM!!!'

The fluffies surged forwards; weeks of fear, sadness and anger boiled over in an instant. Reason and patience frayed to breaking point, the crowd lunged at the Smarty and his toughies. It didn't matter if they believed he was responsible for anything or not, there was no resisting.

'SCREEE!!!' Caught off guard, the Smarty and his toughies were swamped; their former herd mates piled on, desperate to kick and stomp and bite, to destroy! Meanwhile, the original insurrectionists started to tear their captive apart. The unity lasted mere moments though; in the dark and confusion, many fluffies began fighting each other, for no other reason than they were there. It devolved into a chaotic rolling melee; allies and enemies traded places until no one pretended they were on anyone's side but their own. The noise filled the small creek valley and drew the attention of other desperate creatures.

The din of battle masked the wild dogs' approach along the dry watercourse; those at the head of the pack picked out their targets and dashed forwards, driven by hunger. A young stallion fighting one of the remaining toughies was taken first. He'd pushed his opponent to the ground and was ready to stomp on the toughie's chest when something violently wrenched him away. Dazed and in shock, the stallion struggled to understand what had happened and why he couldn't move. Then the wild dog bit into the fluffy's soft underbelly and ripped it open.

'SCREEEEEE!!!!' Blood and entrails spilt from the ragged wound onto the bone dry earth, only to disappear into the dog's mouth. The dog hadn't finished with the first mouth-full before he buried his muzzle in the stallion's belly and ripped free more blood slicked coils of intestine. 'SKREEEEEEE!!!!' The stallion's screeched as the half-starved feral mutt ripped his insides apart.

Close by, the toughie he'd been fighting was fortunate enough to have his throat ripped out almost immediately. For a few moments, the herd was unaware of the dogs' arrival; their victims' death screams blended into the noise all around them. Soon though, the main body of the pack caught up and crashed into the fluffies. Feral dogs ploughed through the melee, grabbing hold of their chosen victim and dragging them to the ground.

'BAWKIE MUNSTAHS!!' The fighting stopped, and the fluffies saw the monsters in their midst, running barking and eating their herd mates alive. 'WUN WAY!!!' Everyone who still could, fled; terrified fluffies ran in whatever direction they faced at the time. There was no plan or course, only a desperate attempt to escape and survive. In the mayhem, the dogs grabbed more fluffies, dragging them down and ripping them apart. In the panic, no thought was given to helping the mares and young foals still confined to their dens.

'Hewp!! Hewp Fwuffy!! Sabe Babbehs!!!' Dust filled the mare's den as a pair of dogs dug at her den's opening, widening it. 'Speciaw fwend!! SPECIAW FWEND!!!'

'Mummah!!!'

'Babbeh scawde!! Peep peep!! Sabe babbeh!!!'

The mare rushed to her nest and curled around her foals, desperate to protect them. 'GO WAY MUNSTAHS!! WEAVE BABBEHS AWONE!!!' She screamed as the dust grew thicker, and the sound of digging came close. 'SPECIAW FWEND!! SCREEEEE!!!' The mare felt the hot sting of teeth in her back and was yanked violently away from the nest. 'BABBEEHSS!!'

Outside the carnage was reaching its peak; almost every dog in the pack had a fluffy in its grip and was busy eating their first proper meal in weeks. Most of the survivors had successfully fled into the night, scattered and confused but alive at least. But, there were stragglers. Out of one nest came a litter of foals only barely weaned; they barely made it a few feet before a dog fell upon them. Further on, the last mare who got permission to have foals stumbled for the relative safety of the bush. She ran with everything she had, hauling her swollen body along.

The mare was close, a few more feet and she'd be safe. One of the pack's latecomers, though, caught sight of the fleeing mare. The dog, a bitch with young pups in tow, locked on and galloped forwards; her pups did their best to keep up. Ahead, the mare was running hard, but her fate was sealed. Within seconds the bitch ran her down and bowled the mare over. The mare stumbled about, desperate to get back to her hooves, but the dog spun and sunk her teeth into the mare's shoulder.

'Screeee!!' The mare tried to strike out at the dog and flailed abut madly to escape, but the bitch's hold was firm and held the mare still until her pups arrived. The young dogs fell on the helpless mare, teeth sinking into limbs and body. 'SCREEEE!!! HEWP HEWWPP!!' The mare screamed at the top of her lungs. 'SABE FWUFFY!! SABE TUMMEH BABBEHS!!' But there would be no rescue; the others were long gone, running for their lives and had no intention of turning back.

One of the pups, frustrated at the lack of progress on the mare's leg, switched his focus to her soft underbelly. 'SQUEEEEE!!!' The mare squealed as the pup's teeth sank into her abdomen. 'BABBEHS!!' She kicked wildly and managed to strike the pup in the side of the head. The young dog yelped and stepped away but jumped back in moments later. He bit into the mare's belly again and didn't let go.

'NUUU!!!!' The mare struck out, again and again, landing more hits on the pup, but he refused to let go; the pup shook his head back and forth like his mother had trained him and opened the first tear in the Mare's skin. 'SCREEEE!! BABBEEHHS!!!' The mare kept kicking and almost dislodged the young dog. Then the bitch let go of the mare's shoulder, grabbed the kicking leg and shook her head.

*SNAP, CRACK! POP!*

'REEEEE!!' New pain shot through the mare's body as her leg was broken and dislocated at the same time; with the leg now useless and the others gripped by the remaining pups, there was nothing she could do to fight back. 'SQUEEEEE!!! EEEEE!!!' The mare squealed in pain and terror as her abdomen was slowly torn open. Tears in the skin became deeper wounds as the pup, and his sibblings made their way to the layers muscle and fat underneath. Blood spilt on the ground and the taste spurred the pups on.

The mare's screams turned ragged as the young dogs tore their way into her abdominal cavity. Entrails started to poke out through the wound, and one of the pups grabbed hold. 'REEEEE!! SKREEEE!!!' The mare hardly noticed her contractions over the pain of being ripped apart and eat alive. Following a spill of abdominal fluid, a teal pegasus emerged from his mother's body and tumbled to the ground.

Despite being a week and a half premature, the foal managed to clear his lungs and call for food and a tongue bath; 'Cheep cheep!! Peep! Cheep cheep cheep!!!' It didn't take long for one of the pups to notice the noise and snatch up the foal. 'SPEEE!!' The pegasus managed one squeal of alarm and pain before the pup bit down, crushing the foal's tiny lungs and ribs. Half-starved like the rest of the pack, the young dog ate the foal in one piece, nearly choking in the process.

No sooner was the pup finished, a second foal started to emerge from the mare's birth canal. Seeing it, the pup grabbed hold and tore the dark red earthy free. 'Eeeep!!' The filly yelped before the pup ripped her head off and devoured the foal. Instead of waiting for the next to emerge, the pup started to rip into the mare's pubic area. Her bloody screams along with those of the rest of their herd mates followed the survivors into the night.

In the surrounding bush-land surviving fluffies ran as hard as they could until their legs gave out; many found places to hide, sure the monsters were following them. As the night wore on though, no one saw any sign of the dogs; the pack was too busy devouring their friends and family back at the creek. Gradually, the scattered fluffies turned their attention to a new question; what now? With no order or coordination to the escape, the fluffies were spread over a wide area. No one had any clue where the others were, or how to find them. No one dared call out, though, lest the barkie monsters or another horror be drawn to them. The only thing for sure was it was best to wait until morning before they did anything.

#

When daylight came, the survivors tentatively emerged from their hiding places and faced up to their new reality. All of them had lost someone dear to them, a friend, mate or foals; for many, it was all three. Survival took precedence over grieving, though; many of the fluffies tried to seek out others from the herd. There was no question of reforming the herd among any of them; everyone was scattered, and all the old rulers were dead. Some, however, rejected the idea of linking up and set out on their own, gambling they could do better alone.

Slowly, those fluffies who were inclined found one another and formed small groups; one centred on a pair of scouts and who had the sense to flee together. The motley crew of fluffies waited for other survivors by a patch of lantana. Through the morning and into the afternoon, a few adults and juveniles filtered in. Last to arrive was a mare with foals; they were weaned but only just, and cried over their father who'd sacrificed himself at the creek.

The afternoon ticked by and turned into evening, but no more survivors came. Accepting the barely one dozen were all that was left of their old herd, one of the scouts took charge. In the morning, he lead them into the bush; the fluffies didn't know where they were going, but the creek wasn't an option anymore. The only thing left was to walk on and hope they'd find a new home.

The following six days took them through many acres of bone dry countryside. The scouts managed to find some food and water along the way, but it was barely able to sustain the fluffies. The march took a toll from the start; one of the older members was exhausted, and by the start of the third day, he couldn't go any further.

Regretfully, the others put the old fluffy out of his misery and left him where he lay. A couple of days later, the group found a tiny spring and stopped for a day's rest. The mare's foals took the opportunity for some much-needed playtime. One set off exploring after growing bored of huggie tag. The colt walked a little way down the narrow rock watercourse and stopped to look at a tiny waterfall. It was more of a dribble, but more than enough to hold the young pegasus's attention. While he watched the water flow, the predator waiting nearby made its move.

'Screeee!!!' The adults ran to the noise and arrived just in time to see the colt's head disappear in the gaping maw of a carpet snake.

'BABBEH!!' The mare rushed forwards, but the others tackled her to the ground.

'Nu can sabe babbeh!'

'Babbeh am… Nu can sabe nu mowe!'

'Nuuuuhuhu!! Babbeh!!!' The mare cried as her foal slowly disappeared into the snake's gullet. Knowing it wouldn't be satisfied with just the colt, the survivors moved on again.

'*Sniff* Huu miss bwudda,' the mare's yellow filly moaned. '*sob* Hate meanie munstahs!' It had only been a few days since the snake had taken the colt, and the pain was still raw his sibblings and mother. The constant moving didn't help matters, especially for the foals; the fatigue compounded their heartbreak, which in turn worsened their frustration at the constant moving.

'Babbeh nu wan move nu mowe huhuhu!!' The yellow filly cried. 'Jus wan nestie gain huuuu!!'

'Id am otay, Babbeh,' he mother said with the little optimism she could gather. 'Mummah an fwends find nyu safe pwace soon.' At least she desperately hoped so. The previous night when her foals were asleep, the mare asked one of the scouts if they were close to a new home.

'*Sigh* Fwuffy nu knu,' he admitted. 'Bud nu can find gud safe pwace in dis fowest. Nee go tu nyu fowest, ovah big gwassie pwace.' They'd come to the boundary between bush and open land that evening and decided to rest until morning before crossing it. Now it was mid-afternoon and by a stroke of luck light cloud cover had blown in, blocking the worst of the sun's rays and saving the group from heatstroke.

'*Haff haff* How much wongah? *Haff*' A Young stallion asked.

'Can see fowest,' one of the scouts said from up ahead. 'Nu am wong way nao.' The rest craned their heads around to see if the scout was telling the truth; the tree line was indeed in sight, though another hour's walk at least.

'Am dewe gun be nyu safe pwace dewe?'

'Maybe,' the lead scout said. 'Bud nee get dewe fiwst. Keep wawkin.' With that, conversation ceased, and the fluffies turned their focus back to walking. A short time later the scouts found a dam that still held some water; it was muddy and warm, but drinkable which was all that mattered. The fluffies quenched their thirst and went to move on when the young stallion from earlier spoke up;

'Fwuffy nee stahp! Weggies hav huwties!'

'Babbehs nee stahp tuu,' the mare added. 'Day hav huwties an owwies!'

The lead scout wanted to say no, that they should keep heading for the forest on the other side of the grassy expanse. But, he could see how exhausted the others were; if they didn't rest for a while at least, they probably wouldn't make it. Still, they couldn't rest out in the open.

'Dewe am twees fwuffies can go tu,' the other scout said, almost reading the leader's mind. 'Day am cwose.'

'Otay, fwuffies go tu twees so can fix owwies an huwties' the lead scout said. 'Bud nu am gun be dewe fow wong time.' The group set out again towards the patch of trees, crossing the side of a gentle rise to get there.

'Mummah, w-wat am dat?' The mare's larger earthy colt asked

'Wat, Babbeh?'

'Dat, dat ting!' The colt pointed at the odd structure to their right; it looked like a strange tree that grew into the shape of a rectangle, with a big white circle hanging in the middle.

'Nu knu babbeh,' the mare said. She, like the other adults, had noticed it but paid it no heed. It wasn't food or a source of water, let along a new home, so there was no reason to care.

'Wat Mummah tink make id?' the colt persisted. 'Wai? Am id toysie? Wat boud-'

'Shh, nu tawkies Babbeh.' She knew the colt wanted a distraction from the long march and the death of his brother, but now wasn't the time. Too much talking put them all in danger.

'Sowwie, Mummah. *Siff*' The Mare felt a stab of pain in her chest and reminded herself to give the colt plenty of hugs when the chance came. She pushed the sadness and regret aside and focused on the journey. Seconds later, her attention was again drawn away.

*Thwack*

The mare bristled at the noise but didn't know how to respond. It was strange, similar to a hoof strike but louder. Moments later came another sound, like a branch hitting the ground; it was more distant, though, and the mare didn't connect it with the first.

'W-wha?' The mare turned; at the rear of the column, a stallion lay on his side with the strangest look on his face. His mate stood over him, confused and concerned. 'Wai Speciaw fwend nu get up? Nu am time fow swee-'

*Thwack*

Something unseen hit the mare and threw her to the ground. There was no scream of pain or even surprise; the mare just fell to the ground, twitched a few times and grew still. The mare and her foals looked on in stunned silence, unable to understand what they'd-

'WUUUNN!!' The mare turned back around to see their leader in a full gallop towards the patch of trees. 'WUN!! WUN FWOM MUNSTAH!!'

'Wat muns-' another stallion tried before he was struck down.

'Wun babbehs!! Fowwow Mummah!!' The mare charged for the trees, her foals close behind. Behind them, another of the group stumbled when something sent a spray of dirt into his face.

'Eeee!!' The fluffy jumped back and closed his eyes on reflex, which sealed his fate. Before he could run again, the strange force struck him to the ground.

'Fastah!! Fastah!!!' The lead scout yelled. 'Nu stahp!! Dat how munstah get yu!!' His point was proved an instant later when another gout of dirt sprayed up from where he'd just been. More sprays of dirt followed the remaining fluffies from where the first had fallen to the safety of the tree patch. They were close, but before the group reached it, the mysterious monster claimed another victim.

*Thwack*

An older filly running ahead of the mare and her foals was struck down, midsection opened by the unseen danger. She and her foals ducked and weaved around their fallen comrade without slowing, not giving the monster a chance to catch them. But one didn't make it.

'Eeeep!' The grey colt over-balanced trying to avoid the body, stumbled and tripped over his legs. Realising his predicament, the colt stumbled to his hooves and made to run, only for the ground to explode in a shower of dirt in front of him. 'Screeee!!' He ducked back and cowered behind the dead filly, only just concealed from sight. Up ahead, the survivors made it cover. The fluffies crouched behind the trees and bushes, getting as low and hidden as they possibly could. Tense seconds ticked by as they waited for the unseen monster to strike them down, but nothing happened. One by one, they looked up; 'Am, a-am fwuffies safe?'

'Tink so,' the lead scout said. 'Nu tink Munstah can see fwuffies nu-'

'Hewp!!' The fluffies turned to the noise; from the shelter of the trees, they saw the grey colt behind the dead filly.

'Babbeh!!' His mother got up to run, but the leader

'Nu!! If Fwuffy go oud dewe munstah get yu!!'

'Babbeh!! Nee save babbeh!!' The mare struggled madly, unable to bear the loss of another foal. But the stallion didn't let her up. They'd lost too many of their group to the monster already, a monster they couldn't even see. The grey colt was a good as dead, and there was no sense in losing his mother too.

'Bwudda! Sissie sabe yu!!' Before anyone could snatch her, the yellow filly ran out to save her brother. Barely a meter into her dash though, another small part of the ground erupted. 'Screee!!' The filly was terrified but unharmed After a moments shock, the filly gathered herself and made it back to the safety of the trees. She buried herself in her mother's fluff.

'Hewp!! Pwease, sabe babbeh! Mummah!! Mummah!!!' The grey colt begged from his cover. 'Pwease!!!'

The mare looked out at her foal, trapped behind a dead fluffy and with a half dozen meters of open ground between him and safety. Open ground stalked by the deadly unseen monster. The mare shifted her gaze to the stallion. 'Nu, fwuffies nu can sabe him,' he said. 'Fwuffies nee keep go-'

'Eeeee!!!' Everyone's gaze was again drawn to the colt. They saw him running towards the trees as fast as he could. The monster attacked, narrowly missing the grey colt and showering him with dirt. Unsteady but not giving up, the terrified foal ran for safety. Another gout of dirt erupted closer to him, but before the monster could try a third time, the col made it to the trees. He buried himself in his mother's fluff alongside his sibblings and cried deeply from fear and exhaustion.

The mare pushed her way up and embraced her foals, tears pouring down her face with relief the monster hadn't taken any of her babbies. While they cried into each others fluff, one of the last survivors turned to the scouts. 'Wat fwuffies do?' The scouts thought a moment; their dead comrades could draw wild dogs to their position, but leaving the cover of the trees was suicide. They'd seen these monsters before; making it as far as they had, even with the losses, was a miracle. There was no way they could make the other forest with that thing out there.

'Fwuffies stay hewe tiww dawktime,' the lead scout said. 'Den, go to nyu fowest.'

'Otay,' the stallion left to find a place to settle down. Moments later, the leader did the same. As the adrenaline ebbed, the gravity of what happened settled on him. More of their group was gone; even if he couldn't count, he understood the ramifications. They were dwindling by the day, and the prospect of finding a new home, a slim chance to start with, seemed almost impossible now.

Still, when the scout looked back at the mare and her foals, he realised there was still reason to hope.

#

'Come on, you little buggers, out you come.' Alan scanned the patch of scrub through his scope, waiting for the rest of the fluffies to emerge into the open. He'd come out to hit some steel, maybe stretch the distance by a hundred meters and see if his skill or the rifle gave out first. When the line of fluffies emerged on the rise where his target was, though, the plan changed. Alan couldn't pass up the chance for some live targets, especially fluffies.

The fluffy bringing up the rear was easy enough, as was nailing the one who stopped to help. But Alan hoped to get more before the others knew what was up and made a run for it. He wasn't such a good shot that he could hit the little bastards when they were running. 'Come on, come on; promise it'll be quick.' Alan shifted his sight from one side of the scrub patch to the other, but it looked like the fluffies were going to stay put and wait him out. Alan heard from others that fluffies would do that, but he figured, or maybe hoped, the shitrats weren't smart enough to really do that. Unfortunately, it looked like his buddies told him was the truth.

No matter, there were other ways to deal with the survivors.

Alan sat up from his shooting table, pulled the bolt back on the rifle and went for the other hard case in his ute. He opened the case and pulled out one of his shotguns, a well worn Turkish built lever action used for chasing pigs. He filled the tube with shells, filled his pocket with a handful of spares and set out for the patch of scrub.
Uploader differential_Sloth,
Tags author:differential_Sloth dogs eaten_alive explicit fluffies_die foals_die herd_dies smarty_dies snipen's_a_good_job_mate tagme
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Rating Explicit

Comments

- Reply
Anonymous1: Is this in straya?
- Reply
Anonymous2: @Anonymous: Either 'Straya or 'Frica, but guessing 'Straya cause of the drought, wild dogs (possibly dingoes), and the dude has a rifle for hunting wild pigs.
- Reply
Anonymous3: Carpet pythons are native to 'Straya. That was my giveaway.
- Reply
WarlordSotos: Drought, feral dogs, and wild pigs?

Texas.
- Reply
Fluffus: @WarlordSotos: Not many utes in Texas.
- Reply
Anonymous4: I would have rathered see them fall into more chaos, then have some other threat come to clean up
- Reply
Anonymous5: This probably took place before the gun ban, unless he has a job in wildlife management.

- Reply
differential_Sloth: @Anonymous: Alright, time for an "ackchyually" moment.

Guns were not banned in Australia after the Port Arthur massacre. What happened was a overhaul of all state and territory gun laws standardising them nation wide. There was also mandatory registration and stricter licencing, plus heavy restrictions on semi-auto rifles and semi-atuo and pump shotguns.

This video is a good big picture explanation.