//------------------------------// // A Talk with a Tiger // Story: Fuzzies // by Palm Palette //------------------------------// Now that birds were returning to the skies, the eerie stillness had been broken. Trees thinned as they got closer to the clearing. Butterflies fluttered around the bushes, stopping to suck nectar from large clumps of white blooms. Twilight took soft steps, moving slowly and carefully. Her ears were perked up, swiveling around at the slightest hint of any noise. Spike grew impatient with the slow pace. “Are we—” “Ssh!” she admonished, hushing him. She twisted her head around to talk directly into his ear. “I think she's close,” she whispered. “I want to get a good look at her before she sees us.” He nodded, hopping down as Twilight crept off the path to slink into a bush. With a thin layer of leaves shrouding them from view, they peered out into an open clearing. Spike squinted while Twilight donned a pair of binoculars. Fluttershy was alone, packing up the remains of a long picnic. Without any disguise, her animal features were plainly visible. She had a long, striped, furry tail that flicked about as she folded up a pink sheet. The black striping marred her soft yellow body, extending all the way up her spine until her pink, flowing mane took over. It also crept down the back sides of her legs, going down to her knees before tapering off. Her wings and hooves weren't affected. Grimacing, Twilight set down her binoculars. She took a deep breath. “Okay. I can do this. It's a fuzzy alright, but it's also Fluttershy. I need to give her a chance to prove herself.” “That's it?” Spike asked. “For all the fuss I thought she'd look a lot more ferocious or something.” Fluttershy's wide, striped, fuzzy ears perked up. She stopped packing her picnic and turned to look at the offending bush. “Is somepony there?” Taking a deep breath, Twilight broke cover and stepped out. She stopped short, leaving a large gap between them, standing at the edge of the forest. “Hi. It's me.” She grinned and waved. Spike ran out, bounding across the field. Butterflies and grasshoppers scrambled out of his way, and he knocked the puff off a dandelion. “Here, let me help you with that,” he said, picking up Fluttershy's dirty dishes and stacking them in her picnic basket. “Oh. Thanks, Spike.” Turning to look across the field, she waved, hesitantly. “Um. Hi, Twilight.” Groaning, the lavender unicorn slowly crossed the gap. “Uh, heh-heh. H-hi,” she stammered. “How are you doing?” “Awful.” Fluttershy drooped her head. “R-right, of course.” Twilight gulped. “I'm sorry about what happened to you. I, uh...” Trailing off, she stared into Fluttershy's eyes. They weren't green like before. Her iris had its usual teal hue, but her pupils were slit vertically. “I'm a monster.” The dejected cat hybrid scraped a hoof on the grass. “You shouldn't be here.” “What? No you're not,” Spike said. He put the last item in the basket and looked up at her. “You're Fluttershy.” “Spike, I have fangs!” Baring her teeth, she spread her mouth. She did indeed have pointed canines, but they were subtle, hardly sticking out and not very noticeable. Twilight subconsciously ran a tongue over her own teeth. She had bumpy, crushing molars and thin, cutting incisors but nothing sharp, pointed and piercing. “So? You have fangs now.” He picked up the basket and looked around. Fluttershy's saddlebags were nearby, lying on the ground. Walking over, he stuffed the basket into the left side. “Mine are bigger.” Twilight stepped in and blocked him from walking back to her. He frowned. “I think that what Fluttershy means to say is that she has uncontrollable urges and that it isn't safe to be around her.” “What? That's nonsense!” Spike yelled. “It's true.” Fluttershy shut her mouth and clenched her eyes shut. “I-I...” She took a step back. “I have a serious problem,” she squeaked, wincing and averting her gaze. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes and say well duh, Twilight bit her lip. “Go on.” Fluttershy sat there, silent. Her breathing was rapid, and her eyes watered. A small red robin chirped and flew down. He landed on her head, tweeting at her. “N-no! Get away from me!” Flailing her legs, she startled the critter, forcing him to fly off. She then collapsed on the ground, burying her head under her forelegs. “You're afraid of birds now?” Spike asked. “No. T-that's not it. I-I.. They...” Sniffling, Fluttershy peered at them through a gap in her legs. “They look tasty!” she blurted out. “What?” Spike scratched his head. “That does make sense.” Twilight rubbed her chin, staring up at the bird flying away. “You are part tiger now. So it makes sense if you're starting to think like one too.” “But I don't want to think like a tiger. I-I can't be around animals if a part of me wants to eat them.” She choked, broke down and started sobbing in the grass. “I guess that explains why she hadn't fed them,” Spike said. Jerking up, Fluttershy's eyes were red and puffy, her mane ragged and wild. “Oh no! I haven't fed them!” “Wait. Calm down. We took care of it,” Twilight said, holding out her hoof. Fluttershy had one leg raised, glancing back at the path leading back to her cottage. “You-you did?” she asked, turning back to face them. “Yep!” Spike said, brushing his hands together. “All taken care of.” Wavering, Fluttershy collapsed back on the ground. “I-I can't even take care of the animals anymore.” Twilight curled her lips down, eyes wide as she stared at the sorry, crying mass of yellow, pink, and black stripes. She did still have her cutie mark, which hadn't changed from three pink butterflies. “A-actully...” She rubbed the back of her neck, ruffling her deep blue mane. “I'm pretty sure you can. I think I might know something that can help with your problem. Tell me, when was the last time you ate?” “Um. Just now. I had tea and a salad, why?” “And it wasn't very filling, was it?” “...No.” Twilight nodded. “I thought so. As part predator, your body has different needs now. You'll want to supplement your diet with more protein. Go for fish, eggs, whole milk, uh... I guess you could even eat stuff like dog and cat food too if you really had to.” “What?” Fluttershy blinked. “That's, um... I kinda thought... I can't believe cat food sounds good.” “Don't worry. You won't get sick, and you won't have to worry about your critter friends looking tasty if you're properly fed.” “That's not what I meant. I can't be a real pony if I have to go on a weird diet.” “Huh?” Twilight cocked her head. “But you aren't a real pony—not anymore.” Shaking her head, Fluttershy got back up and held a hoof in front of her face. She twisted it side to side, staring at the stripes spread down behind her shoulders. “Rarity kept insisting that nothing had really changed, that everything was the same, that even if I looked different, that I was still the same pony inside. She said she could make everything work out, but she wouldn't look me in the eye. She didn't want to talk about my... stripes, only how to hide them, to live a lie...” “Are you really thinking of leaving?” Twilight asked. Fluttershy sighed and lowered her head. “I don't know. I don't want to. Everything I know and love is here.” “Yeah! You have us, your friends,” Spike said. She flexed her wings, staring at her pale yellow plumage. “And that's exactly why I really should leave. I'm putting you all at risk just by being here.” “What?” Spike blinked. “Are you really worried about attacking someone?” “No! I-I'd never do that!” She shuddered and curled down into a ball. “It's not me. Everypony hates me, they—” “Everypony doesn't hate you,” Spike said. He took a step towards her. Twilight put a hoof down in front of him. She shook her head when he glared up at her. “Actually, they kinda do. Fuzzies are shunned on sight, and you saw what they did to her house.” “They did what to my house?” Fluttershy's eyes widened. “Um. Broke a few windows, made a mess of the flower garden.” Twilight rubbed the back of her head. She tried to hide a cringe by grinning, and wound up bearing her teeth. “Rainbow Dash chased them off before they could do anything else.” Spike frowned. “And you—” “Not now,” Twilight hissed, shushing the little dragon. “And what if they hadn't stopped? She could have gotten hurt.” Fluttershy bit her lip, then recoiled, opening her mouth and touching her fangs with her tongue. Twilight looked at the sky. “Fluttershy, I... I'm curious. How did you feel about fuzzies before, well...” “I don't know. I never really thought about it. I guess, if I have to pick something, that I pitied them. I felt sorry for them. I didn't care enough to have much of an opinion.” “And now?” Twilight asked. “I hate them, of course.” She practically spat the words, nearly growling. “What? But how can you hate them?” Spike asked. “You are one.” “I don't recognize myself in the mirror. My skin doesn't feel right. My little friends smell like food. Everypony shuns me and I agree with them. I-I just want to tear it all off, to be done with it forever, but I can't. I'm... I-I'm...” she broke off sniffling and covered her face. Tears dripped off her chin as she sobbed softly in the clear meadow. Brushing past Twilight's leg, Spike ran over and gave her a hug. Fluttershy scooped him up, holding him tight like a doll. Twilight winced, and averted her gaze. The sky was nice a blue, with only a few puffs of cloud in the sky, wispy and curly like mare's tails. A small flock of bids flew overhead, geese, probably, lined up that distinctive 'V' shape. “Thanks, Spike. I needed that.” “No problem.” Twilight clenched her jaw. She remained staring at the sky. “I guess I never really thought about that. Just because somepony turns into a fuzzy doesn't mean that they stop hating them. No wonder fuggles even exist. I often wondered why, but now? I can't say that I blame them.” “You don't have to worry. I'm not going to do that to myself.” Fluttershy shook her head. She set Spike down and went back to examining the stripes on her foreleg. “I guess... being part tiger fuzzy isn't too bad.” Sighing, she looked up, and her eyes followed birds perched in the tulip poplars at the edge of the clearing. Some squirrels darted around, climbing up an old, gnarled oak. “But if I had a choice, I'd rather be a tree.” Wincing, Spike held up his arms and frantically shook his head. Twilight frowned at him, but said nothing. Fluttershy clenched her eyes and lowered her head. “Twilight, I—” Taking a deep breath, she flexed her wings, then raised her head, turning to face them. Worry lines marred her face. “Is there anything else I should know about being a fuzzy?” “Actually... yeah.” Twilight gulped. “I, uh... you...” She took a deep breath herself and her ears drooped. “First of all, you're currently about twenty percent tiger. Your condition will gradually worsen over time, but under normal circumstances, should stop at no more than fifty percent. Exposure to magic can accelerate this process, so avoid it if possible. Thankfully, you're not a unicorn so you shouldn't have to worry about that.” “It gets worse?” She frowned and shut her eyes. “Yes, but it takes years. The change is gradual from this point on.” “And there's no way to stop it?” “Unfortunately, no. Fuzzies respond oddly to magic, and herbal remedies known to reverse transformation and break curses have no effect. It's as if this is your true form. It's befuddled some of the smartest minds for centuries.” “Ah.” Fluttershy hung her head. “Anything else?” Twilight bit her lip. “Well...” She scuffed her hoof in the grass. “Fuzzies, on average, have a shorter lifespan by about ten to twenty years. The good news is that this isn't due to your change, directly, but the bad news it that it tends to result from related conditions. Most fuzzies don't know how to take care of themselves, resulting in poor health from malnutrition. It's also difficult to treat diseases and other ailments due to poor access to medical care and an innate corruption of magic. High stress, depression, isolation, and self-loathing are also chronic conditions common among fuzzies.” “Figured as much.” Fluttershy shook her head. “Fuzzies just wander off and disappear, but something has to finish them off eventually.” “Don't be so glum.” Spike lifted his chin up and grinned. “You'll always have your animal friends, and you can take care of each other.” “Um... I guess so.” “There is one last thing that's very important.” Twilight folded her ears back and glanced away, so as not to look her in the eyes. “I don't think there's any good way of breaking this, but, uh, you weren't thinking of having children, were you?” “What? I... I always assumed...” She sat there, staring at the grass. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she sniffled. “I guess no stallion would ever want a freak like me.” “It's not that.” Twilight shook her head. “Fuzzies are infertile. The mixed biology messes everything up. Neither stallions nor tigers—” “Tigers?” Fluttershy's eyes went wide. “W-why would... who would...” Twilight winced as if she'd been hit. She rubbed her cheek. “Uh, I guess it's a good thing they don't live around here. But if you ever visit the jungle at exactly the wrong time of year, you, uh, may experience some unwanted attention.” “Oh. Oh my.” Her cheeks flushed and she glanced up at the sky. “I guess I really am different. The thought of... tigers... isn't instantly revolting. Hmm, I wonder if I could get a tiger disguise from Rarity too. I know she's emphasized my pony side, but... having a backup couldn't hurt.” “Couldn't hurt, riiight...” Twilight took a step back. “And they call other ponies beast lovers,” she muttered to herself under her breath. “What are you talking about?” Spike asked. “It's nothing.” Shaking her head vigorously, Twilight's mane flipped out in a wide circle. “Don't worry about it.” Hesitantly, Fluttershy took a step towards them. “Twilight, I... I'm glad you came to see me. You've been very helpful. I'll never be the same, but, uh, you've helped me better understand what it means to be, um, what I am.” “You're welcome, I guess. Sorry to be the bearer of such bad news.” Shying back, Fluttershy, pawed at the grass. Then she took a stride forward, reaching out for a hug. “Don't touch me!” Twilight screamed. She jerked back, recoiling and throwing a hoof up to shield her face. She breathed heavily, practically panting. Fluttershy's catlike eyes watered and her lips wavered. She set her hooves back on the ground and her fuzzy, striped ears folded back. She sniffled. “S-sorry,” Twilight said. “You startled me.” Whisking her head away, Flutteshy talked to the trees. “No no. I-it's okay. I wouldn't want to hug a f-freak like me either.” She choked, and tears ran down her cheeks. “I-I'd better go board up my windows or s-something.” Twilight hung her head, saying nothing as Fluttershy ran off. “Why did you do that? She was almost starting to feel better about herself,” Spike asked. He walked over and picked up the forgotten saddlebags. “I didn't mean to. I just panicked.” Standing up, Twilight took a deep sigh. She plucked the bags out of Spike's hands with her magic and draped them over her own back. “I guess I'll just leave these on her back porch. She'll find them the next time she feeds the chickens.” “So... when she mentioned being a tree, I was worried you might—” Twilight shook her head. “It wouldn't have worked. It's not a cure. Sure, I might have turned her into a cherry tree, but she'd wind up growing acorns or pine cones or have hairy spider legs for branches or something.” He shuddered. “But...” He scratched his head. “How do you know all this about fuzzies, anyway?” “They come up a lot in magic history. In ancient times, fuzzies used to be used as research subjects. You remember when I mentioned a third type of fuzzy?” “Yeah.” “Well, repeated exposure to high levels of magic, particularly transformative, can result in the subject taking on the characteristics of multiple types of animals at once. With each subsequent alteration, they become more wild and chaotic, both in appearance and temperament. A fuzzy who has degraded like that is known as a composite horror. There's a good reason that such practices have long since been banned.” “Yeesh.” He winced. “So has talking to Fluttershy changed your mind about fuzzies?” “My mind?” Twilight frowned. “Dunno, maybe. I'm hesitant to jump to conclusions based on a small sample of observational data. Celestia will be wanting a report on this, so let me compile my research notes and I'll get back to you.” She sighed and rubbed her head. “I have a lot to think about.” “You know. You never did say goodbye.” Twilight winced and hung her head. “No. No I did not. I meant to, but, even with her catlike features, I...” she bit her lip and fought back a watering of her eyes. “I guess I do understand Rarity a whole lot better now.”