>YAAAWWWWWWNNNNN....
>You are Anon, and you're tired as balls.
>If balls could get tired and were capable of feeling wide-awake, you'd.... you'd be the tired ones.
>God, you're too tired to be clever.
>Because it is 9 AM, and you haven't slept all night.
>And you know why?
"...and that's when the mango turned to ASH in her hooves!"
>It's because you're foal-sitting Ponyville's newest (and only) family of bat-ponies, and those adorable fuckers are nocturnal.
>The two foals, an older sister and a younger brother, exchange a nervous glance.
>The younger colt nuzzles into his older sister's side, shaking in the safety of his little pyjamas.
>Her big sister is only a year and a half older than he is, but she takes her duties as his older sibling seriously; she wraps a leathery wing around his back and pulls him against her, even though she's just as scared as he is.
>The room is just about pitch-dark thanks to the sun-blocking curtains that are in front of every window in the house, and your little oil lamp provides just enough light to read by.
>You glance at them from over the edge of the book their mom snuck you as she and her husband were walking out the door for a night on the town.
"And you know what the scariest part was of all?"
>The bat-pony filly shakes her head 'no'; her brother still has his face buried in her side.
"...it's that there's a spooky scary skeleton inside of you RIGHT NOW!"
>"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE"
>ohfuckingshitthat'sloud
>uggggggh
>You watch, ears ringing, as the foals dive into the little pillow/blanket fort they constructed.
>You'd feel bad if their mom didn't insist that they loved being scared before bedtime, and that they've heard this story a hundred times already.
>Bat-ponies are weird.
"Do you want to read one more story before we go to bed?  We can stop if it's too scary."
>The filly shakes her head right away.
>"Nuh-uh, mister Nine-mouse!" she declares confidently, voice quivering, "I'm a big filly, and I ain't a'scared of nothin'!"
>That would be a lot more convincing if she didn't look like she were about to wet herself.
>You-
>CLICK CLACK CLICK
>Despite yourself, you jump; startled.
>You've just spent the last hour reading scary stories; even though they're kid's stuff, they've still got you just a tiny bit on-edge.
>"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE"
>whydotheykeepscreaminglikethatohmygod
>You drop the book and cover your ears as the front door swings open, flooding the room with morning light.
>Mom and dad bat-pony walk in, looking tired, but happy.
>Two torpedoes rush out of the pillow/blanket fort, which collapses behind them as their limbs knock over support pillows and tug at structural blankets.
>"DADDY DADDY"
>The two foals dive at their father and huddle under his flared wings, while their mother sends you a knowing look.
>You just nod and hold up the scary book, earning you a small smile.
>>"Thank you for looking after our foals, mister Anonymous," says the mare with an accent you can't quite place, "I trust that they didn't cause too much trouble?"
>What accent IS that?
>You don't know why, but you feel like she should start counting and laughing when she talks like that.
>Ugh, your brain goes weird places when you're tired.
>Hoping to get through this 'yeah we had fun everything is cool now pay me' exchange comfortably, you sit down on one of their couches.
>Now if only you could just rest your eyes for a moment...
>You yawn and shake your head 'no'.
"Naw," you yawn, jaw stretching so wide that it cracks, "They were little angels.  They ate all their breakfa-er, dinner-"
>The 6 AM meal was this was this weird combination of breakfast and dinner, and you can't figure out a name for it.
"-without much fuss, and then we read books together under a pillow fort."
>You point at the foals, who are still huddling under their dad's wings and jabbering at him too quickly for your tired mind to keep up with.
"I was just about to put them to bed, actually."
>The mom nods, and you lean back a little more firmly into the couch.
>You had to take away almost all the cushions for the fort, but you had one left over; and you're sitting on it.
>It's comfy.  REAL comfy.
>You hope she isn't too upset that you didn't have time to clean up the fort before they got home.
>>"Yes, my husband was too worried about our foals, so we came home a couple hours early."
>She rolls her eyes.
>>"Not that he doesn't trust you, but all fathers seem to be big worry-warts."
>You nod absently, letting your eyes remain closed for just a moment half-way through a blink.
>God, that feels so good.
>Maybe you can try it again the next time you open your eyes.
>>"I remember when I was a filly.  We'd come running home with scraped knees and scratched wings, and my mother would tell us to rub dirt in it aaaaaannnnndddd....
>You nod, not really listening.
>Her voice seems to fade out.
>You can hear it, but it's as though it's not registering.
>Like you've forgotten to listen to her talk.
>God, this couch sure is comfortable...
>...
>You're woken up about an hour later by the father.
>He looks much less dressed-up than he did when he came home.  His mane is a bit messier, and he looks like he just came out of the shower.
>He's got your bits in a bag held in his mouth, and a mug full of steaming coffee held in one of his hooves.
>>>"You looked like you could use the rest."
>You are Anon, and you feel like shit right now.
>This is the last time you foal-sit for these bat-ponies.
>>>"I know how inconvenient it is for you day-walkers to stay up all night, so I added in a little bonus to our agreed upon fee."
>You weigh the bag in your hand, and it's significantly heavier than you expected.
>...maybe this won't be the last you see of these ponies.