Pint-Sized Partner

by Some Leech

First published

Pear Butter and Big Mac prepare for a shindig. Unfortunately, things go slightly off the rails...

Making ready for the annual Apple family hoedown, Pear and her strapping son put the finishing touches on the barn. With Granny Smith and Applejack in the house cooking, cleaning, and tending to baby Bloom, while Bright Mac is out to town, the two labor through the evening. With their hard work nearly done for the day, the matronly mare decides to call it quit for the evening and quench Mac's thirst...

Kinks Include: Incest, Female on Male, Oral, Vaginal, Size Difference, Transformations, Lactation, Soft Femdom, Light Musk, Worship, and Staking a Claim
SPOILER NOTE: All characters are of age in this story. The potion only diminished Mac's physical size. Mentally, he's still a fully functional adult.

A collab with the cool dude Indigo SFM! Check out his stuff on Derpi or E621 (E621 post #2375292)

If you want to help support me, I have a Tip-Jar/Patreon HERE

A Different Thirst to Quench

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Standing to inspect the barn’s interior, Pear Butter wiped her brow. Most of the equipment had been moved outdoors, replaced by hay bales which had been neatly stacked into steps on either side of the cavernous structure. With the floor mostly cleared, save for a stage at the far end of the building, the job was nearly finished; all that was left to do was decorate.

Despite managing well over a hundred acres of orchards and farmland, the Apple family still had its off seasons - as such, they got rather creative when it came to raising funds and having a good time. Prior to the harvest season, roughly a month before their mainstay fruit was ready to be picked, they typically held one hell of a shindig.

Lasting for an entire week, it was one of the easiest ways for the family to make money. Ponies from as far away as Canterlot and Manehattan came for the event, so attendance was always high. Everyone of all ages were welcome, with each being charged a small admission fee, although that’s not where most of the bits came from - no, that was due to the entertainment.

Throughout the day, they sold snacks, meals, cider, and made coin from family-friendly games and activities. Extended members of the Apple family came to help with everything, assisting with the food and drink, yet the income from the daylight hours paled in comparison to their nightly revenue. After sunset, things got far more interesting.

As families went home for the evening, the real party began. With the colts and fillies absent, the adults were free to cut loose and have some fun themselves. Hard cider and spirits flowed freely, loosening wallets and lips for the real event. Besides being known for their green thumbs, the Apple family was surreptitiously renowned for their burlesque shows.

Though two of Pear’s three children were still too young to involve themselves with the nighttime festivities, her son had just turned eighteen. It would be easy to mistake the young stallion for being older than he was, considering his size, but this year would be the first time he’d been allowed in the barn after dark. Most parents would have likely had reservations about their offspring being present for such debauchery, but that wasn’t what had the matrony mare concerned.

Given his age and budding interest in women, Pear had little doubt that her precious son would soon be set upon by lusty mares who’d had their inhibitions weakened. It had been bad enough that she’d had to shoo away visitors in the past, since they’d likely assumed he was as young as he was, but that defense was now null and void. He was now technically an adult - meaning she could only shield his chastity for so long.

A loud grunt shook Pear from her thoughts and caused her to turn. Plodding through the entrance, as if summoned by her musings, strode her cherished son. Easily standing a full head and shoulders taller than most stallions, with slabs of muscle heaped about his titanic frame, he was the closest thing to an Adonis she’d ever seen. The fact that he was a fruit of her loins made her even more proud of him, leaving her to watch him effortlessly carry a pair of benches on his shoulders.

As stoic as he was gargantuan, Mac was actually a gentle giant. Easily as strong as a tractor, he was the literal workhorse of the family and he’d quickly surpassed his father’s strength - still, despite his colossal build, she’d never once seen him lift a finger in anger. She felt sure that, if he ever were provoked, he could trounce nearly anyone, yet his intimidating height and physique were enough to cause many to shy away.

Turning his head towards her, he piqued a brow. She motioned to the side, silently directing him to where the benches should be placed. As if the two pieces of furniture weighted nothing at all, he turned, trotted over to the wall, and set them down. Clad in little more than a pair of jeans and suspenders, she was treated to the sight of his bare chest and back. A shiver ran up her spine, as he bent over and adjusted one of the two seats.

As much as it pained her to admit it, she couldn’t help but appreciate how attractive he was. She was his mother, true, but it was impossible to deny just how stunning he was. Son or not, he was an absolute stud and she found herself increasingly captivated by him - not just because of his looks, but because he’d always been a sweetheart and had blossomed into a damn fine stallion.

Standing and fetching a handkerchief from his pocket, Mac mopped the sweat from his face. With Bright Mac putting up flyers in town, he was left to do most of the heavy lifting. Applejack would have helped, if she wasn’t busy assisting Granny Smith and looking after Apple Bloom, thought it wasn’t that big of a problem. They still had one day to go before things kicked off, so they’d have plenty of time.

“Care for a drink?” Pear asked, sauntering over to one of the many coolers they had available. Leaning over and digging into the chilled container, she retrieved a hard cider.

With just the two of them in the barn, the building was eerily silent. Straightening up, wiping the perspiration from the can, she turned and strutted over to him. Her boots made it a little uncomfortable to walk around, although that was precisely why she was wearing them. Throughout the event, she and any family members lending a hand typically wore rather stylized western attire.

Her outfit wasn’t exactly what she’d call family friendly - then again, she typically worked the night shift. Consisting of a skin-tight crop top, thigh high boots, tasseled leather gloves, a perilously short skirt, and a stetson, she was the stereotypical sexy cowgirl. She didn’t mind making a spectacle of herself, since she always ended up getting tipped well, but she had no interest in any of the stallions who undressed her with their eyes.

Looking up to her son’s face, she slowed. It had only listed for a fleeting second, but she could swear he’d been looking at her chest. Peering down, as she continued to move in his direction, she watched her bosoms bounce and sway. Without a bra, her ample rack moved about relatively unhindered. While it wasn’t the first time she’d caught him eyeing her, she was stricken with an idea.

Extending her arm, offering the cool beverage, she smiled up at him. “Here you go.”

As he plucked the can from her grasp, she moved her hand to her chest. Given the unseasonably warm afternoon, and the fact that she’d been getting things set up for the last few hours, she had worked up a bit of a sweat herself. She didn’t mind the manual labor, but it gave her an excuse to test her little theory. If Mac really had been checking out her bust, she knew exactly how to get a reaction out of him.

Slipping one finger into the low-cut neck of her top, she fanned the elastic fabric. Considering he was nearly two feet taller than her, his vantage would easily give him the perfect view of her upper chest. Tugging at the fabric, while fanning herself with her free hand, she sighed.

“I tell ya, I sure am glad you’re helping me out this afternoon,” she breathed, nonchalantly using her clothing as a makeshift bellow. Sneaking a glance up at him, wondering what if anything held his attention, she spied him gazing down at her bountiful cleavage.

There was something undeniably thrilling knowing that she was still attractive enough to catch someone’s eye - let alone her son’s. It honestly didn’t bother her that he was her child - in fact, if anything, it made it even more arousing. Many years ago, back when Mac had been a baby, she would never have dreamt about doing something so scandalous, yet times had changed.

Bright Mac was a capable and devoted lover, although their son had eclipsed him as a stallion. Larger, stronger, taciturn, and compassionate, the young buck was a paragon of masculinity and the sort of stud most mares would kill for - hell, even when he’d been younger, he’d been cute as a button. It wasn’t her fault for finding him attractive and she wasn’t about to deny her interest in him.

Whimsically musing on what she would do with him, she giggled. Her titter, while inadvertent, apparently reminded him of whom held his rapt attention. Shaking his head and popping the top of his drink, he downed the cider in record speed. She couldn’t help but smile, having had her suspicion cemented. Twirling around and strolling back towards the cooler, to fetch him a second drink, she knew exactly how she’d tease him next.

Intentionally hitting the toe of her boot on a divot in the soil, she sent herself tumbling forward. Throwing her arms out to catch herself, hoping to give him a peek of her backside, her hastily laid plan was upended. The sound of thunderous footfalls were all the warning she had, before she found herself being scooped up in a pair of big, burly arms. In less than a second, he’d rushed over, caught her, and pulled her back to her feet.

Righting herself, with Mac’s arm around the small of her back, she stared up at his face. With a smile that met his enchanting eyes, his cheeks darkened ever so slightly. The look on his angelic visage was enough to make her weak in the knees, magnified by the sensation of his calloused fingers against her skin. Stepping away, she steadied herself against the nearby bar they’d temporarily installed.

“M...maybe we should both call it a day,” Pear sputtered.

Reaching for something - anything to drink, she sought to ease the tension. A stiff shot wouldn’t be a bad way to wrap things up, hopefully helping her forget trying something so foolish as to work up her son. Wrapping her fingers around the neck of a short, stout bottle, Mac beat her to the punch. Snatching jug from her grip and uncorking it in his teeth, he took a long draught of the beverage; only too late did she realize what he’d accidentally imbibed.

Besides the normal fare of spirits and beer, there were a number of select potions they purchased for the nightly events. The elixirs could do any number of wondrous things, from altering one’s size and strength to swapping a person’s sex. The various mixtures were all harmless and their effects were temporary, yet that didn’t detract from their short-term potency.

Noting the concerned look on her face, Mac glanced down at the bottle in his hand. His pupils shrank to pinpricks, as he comprehended what he’d just ingested, but that wasn’t the only thing that shrank. Before Pear’s very eyes, his frame seemed to diminish. His muscles deflated, his stature gradually lessened, and his pants grew loose. Too shocked to move, the mare was left to watch the bizarre spectacle unfold.

The bottle fell to the floor, as the stallion began to panic. Pawing at himself, trying in vain to stop the irreversible process, a pained expression crossed his face. In the span of less than a minute, he was reduced to looking like a rather young colt. Scrunching his snout, he stooped over, picked up the discarded potion, and angrily pointed at the label.

The particular elixir was used by several patrons to play pranks or for families to have a unique way to bond. The potion leveled the playing field between parents and their children, letting them play with each other on an even footing. Although it wasn’t terribly uncommon for adults to dose themselves for somewhat questionable purposes with a lover or fling, it was most commonly used for wholesome purposes.

It took everything Pear had to contain herself, looking down at the once strapping lad. Looking no older than a pubescent child, with his pants only held by one suspender, he scowled at her. Wandering over his small, nubile frame, her eyes eventually made their way towards his waist. Hanging off his hips, resting just below his upper thighs, his waistband came just short of properly concealing his crotch.

Seeing the dark, carnelian base of his stallionhood, her mouth began to water. Even as a youth, Mac had been exceedingly well hung. It wasn’t like she’d tried to peek on her son, but his endowment had made it nearly impossible to miss. The imprint in his slacks or, Celestia forbid, his briefs told her ages ago that he’d been blessed with some exceptional equipment. Licking her lips, while her marehood moistened, she squatted down before him.

“Aren’t you the cutest little thing,” she snickered, reaching out to pinch his cheek.

His frown deepened, as did his blush, yet he didn’t shy away. The mere sight of him conjured all sorts of memories of his younger years, from watching him crawl around to comforting him when he was ill, but one shone through amongst the rest. He’d been her first child and, as such, opened her to the glory of breastfeeding. While there wasn’t anything overtly sexual about having a baby nurse on her teat, the sensation never failed to fill her with an odd combination of contentment and arousal.

Smirking over at him, reminiscing on him as a foal, she noticed him rub the back of his neck. Hastily turning away, he fidgeted uncomfortably. It was only when she felt something cool against her chest did she realize what had him out of sorts. Craning her neck and squinting down at her top, she noticed two wet patches of fabric over her breasts.

Spontaneously leaking wasn’t all that uncommon, since Apple Bloom was still a wee babe - still, she hadn’t been expecting it. The thought alone of having her son nurse upon her had been enough to put her body to work, readying her to feed her offspring. Reaching out, grinning from ear to ear, she wrapped one arm around his head.

Pulling him to herself, while pawing at one bosom, she pushed the envelope. She had every intent on releasing him, if he truly protested, but if he didn’t...“Don’t tell me you’re ashamed of your mom?”

Twisting his head and gazing at her chest, Mac swallowed hard. The look he gave her, coupled with his tenting pants, pushed Pear past her limit. Fuck it - they were the only ones around, she’d started lactating, and her baby boy had worked himself to the bone; if he needed to have his thirst quenched, so be it.

Without a care in the world, she pulled her top up and over her bust. Bobbing free, with a trail of milk trickling from each nipple, her heaving breasts hung slightly. She’d always been rather chesty, but her rack nearly doubled in size when she was producing. Flexing her arm, she drew the little stallion in and pressed his face against one tit.

As he questioningly looked up at her, doubtlessly warring with the concept she’d presented, her smile broadened. “Don’t worry, I don’t tell anyone…” she cooed, lovingly stroking his golden mane.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, Mac began to move. Opening his mouth and closing his eyes, he wrapped his pouting lips around her right teat. The sensation of him suckling upon her was extraordinary, far stronger than what Apple Bloom was capable of. Adjusting her stance, she splayed her legs and held him to herself. Without so much as touching herself, her marehood grew increasingly wet. Child or not, she was still servicing a virile stallion.

Resting on her heels, trying to stay balanced, her hand drifted down Mac’s neck, over his back, and into his slack trousers. Cupping her palm over his rump, she gave him a squeeze. Even with his diminished size, his glutes were supremely well sculpted. As if hearing the siren’s call of a potential mate, her sex angrily seized.

“Mac, sweetie, maybe we could move somewhere more comfortable,” Pear muttered, drawing his attention.

While resting in a deep squat wasn’t unbearable, a change in position would allow them to continue in a more convenient location. Without waiting for a reply, she steadily got to her feet and pulled the tiny stud along with her. Scooping him up, ensuring he stayed latched to her chest, she brushed off his remaining suspender. As she pulled him into the air and trotted over to the wall, his pants drifted to the straw below.

One of the more popular nightly events was the cowgirl rodeo. It was a clever play on words, clandestinely letting patrons know that lap dances were available, yet the signage wasn’t complete. Leaning over, while holding her son in one arm, she made a hasty amendment.

Standard Ticket - $10
Gold Ticket - $50
Platinum Ticker - $100
VIP Ticket - Mac Only

It had been a spur of the moment addition, but she found amusement in it. Spinning around and resting herself on the makeshift seat - an emptied barrel - she shifted Mac onto her lap. As he lay against her thighs, hungrily swallowing mouthful after mouthful of her milk, her attention shifted to the more pressing issue at hand. Now nude and painfully erect, his shaft pressed hotly against her unmolested breast.

One could easily have thought the lad’s stallionhood would reflect his runtish size, given his small stature, but they’d be wrong. Nearly as long as Pear’s forearm and thicker than her wrist, Mac’s tool was downright godly. Easily large enough to please any mare, her son’s equipment was the envy of a great many.

Despite having had the passing notion of wooing him, Pear had never acted on her impulses - that was, until that moment. Delicately wrapping her fingers around his shaft, feeling his velvety flesh against her palm, she languidly stroked his length. The sheer heat and weight of his dick caused her to shudder, evoking all manner of lascivious thoughts.

Stroking him off, growing increasingly turned on with every fleeting second, she ground her thighs together. She could have never imagined finding herself in such a shameful situation, yet she hadn’t been that worked up in ages. Barely restraining herself, fighting off the urge to slip a hand beneath her skirt, a stifled groan drifted to her ears.

Mac’s eyes were screwed shut, he still greedily gulped down his mother’s milk, yet his hips bucked every so slightly. Glancing to the blunted crown of his cock, Pear’s motions slowed. A single, glistening drop of pre-cum oozed from his length, leaving her at an impasse. With her resolve withering, trying and failing to stave off the temptation of the taboo, she found her willpower lacking.

Since he’d so enthusiastically taken to slaking his thirst, she felt compelled to return the favor. Relinquishing his shaft, she wormed her hands under his shoulders and waist. Heaving herself from her seat, she spun in place and gingerly sat him down on the barrel. It almost pained her to remove him from her teat, but it was unavoidable for what she had planned.

As Mac peered up at her in confusion, she repositioned him. Pulling his legs from the wooden surface, perching his rump squarely on the edge, she sank down to her haunches. Maintaining eye contact, while she slowly prized his thighs apart, her face crept to his groin. Without saying a word, she pressed her snout to his package.

The aroma - sweet Celestia, the aroma of his unwashed loins was ambrosial. The scent of his musk, heady and strong, demolished what little self control she had left. With one hand resting on his hip, she reached for her groin. Kneading and massaging her slickened nethers, utterly transfixed by the paragon of a stallion, she buried her nose between his shaft and plump, ripe nuts.

Although he temporarily held the body of a colt, Pear couldn’t fathom how productive Mac could be. Giving each fuzzy orb a kiss, silently promising that she’d take care of them, her lips parted. Dragging her tongue up the base of his shaft, the salty, strong flavor of his sweat coated her taste buds. As she unhurriedly kissed and licked her way up his shaft, while unabashedly rubbing herself, her lust soared to unimaginable levels.

Reaching the tip of his length, she wrapped her lips around his bloated crown. Closing her eyes, fixating on the savory taste of his excitement, she started bobbing her head. The hushed moans and heavy breaths of her son were more than enough inspiration to continue, spurring her to please the lad - still, she was left far from satisfied. Pulling her panties aside and plunging two fingers into her slavering sex, she desperately sought to extinguish the passionate inferno within her.

Taking her time, steadily working him into her muzzle, the broad head of his stallionhood eventually bumped against the back of her throat. Steeling herself, she drew a deep breath and relaxed; she couldn’t afford to tense up, not for what she was about to do. Jamming her head forward, she forced him into her esophagus. Hearing him gasp, she cracked an eye open and peered up his frame. Staring down at her, askance, he gnawed his lower lip.

The look he bore was priceless and all the validation she needed. Continuing onward, suppressing a gag, her lips met his girthy medial ring. While she’d never fellating someone as gifted as her Mac, she had enough experience to endure. After withdrawing slightly to take a breath, she drove him back into her gullet.

As depraved as it was, shamelessly fingering herself while throating her son, she would have gleefully let him pump a load directly into her stomach; sadly, fate had other plans. Reaching down, he sweetly caressed her cheek, cleared his throat, and instantly caused her to slow. Clearing his throat, he said the one word that brought her to a screeching halt.

“M...Mama,” he whimpered.

Pear’s heart skipped a beat, hearing the utterance. Ever rare to speak, Mac said perilously little after reaching adulthood - as such, the faint murmur practically demanded her attention. Pulling back, retracting his stallionhood from her maw, she pushed herself up. Without saying a word, having moved her hand away from her needy marehood, she hitched her thumbs over the waistband of her panties.

Mac simply sat transfixed, watching as his mother bent over and pulled the undergarment down her supple thighs. Covered in saliva and pre-cum, his towering shaft twitched in anticipation. Like a deer in the headlights, he was unable to move - that was, until the mare removed her panties. Stepping closer, swinging one leg up and resting her knee beside his waist, Pear pushed him onto his back.

Nearly driven mad with desire, her maternal smile stood in stark contrast to her carnal wants. Sliding over his thighs, she rested her sex atop his rigid length. Nestled between her meaty lower lips, the heat of his tool permeated her flesh. As she swung her lower half forward and back, grinding her snatch against his throbbing cock, her eyes never left his.

“You want mama to make a stallion out of you?” she purred.

Though the question was largely rhetorical, she needed to get affirmation. She had no way of knowing if he truly was a virgin, yet some part of her desperately hoped that he was. Being his first, marking and despoiling him for any mare to follow in her footsteps, stirred a craving within her that she had never known.

With a sheepish smile, unwilling or unable to give voice to his wants, Mac nodded his head. It was all the confirmation she needed, causing her to act. Lifting her waist, she brought the tip of his stallionhood to her entrance. With his crown pressed against her marehood, knowing there’d be no going back, she bore down against him.

Trembling in delight, her silken depths were slowly filled. Lowering herself, relishing every vascular inch of his length, her glacial descent only stopped when she hilted him. Seated atop him, playfully gyrating and wiggling her tush, a contented sigh escaped her. Easily rivalling his father’s size, Mac’s glans pressed against her womb. He was, for all intents and purposes, a perfect fit.

With her fun far from over, she draped herself over him and pecked his cheek. Reaching out, she braced herself against the wall, clenched around his cock, and raised her behind. With several inches of his thick base freed from her confines, she rocked back and entombed him once again. The sensation of his stallionhood kissing her cervix was only outshone by the fact that she had claimed him - her precious baby boy.

Ponderously screwing herself upon him, Pear savored the fullness that he afforded. Mac soon joined her, thrusting up to meet her movements. Clamping down on the upstrokes, while relaxing on plunges, she synchronized their motions. What he lacked in technique, fitfully humping into her, he more than made up for in his astonishing size.

The pint-sized stallion wriggled beneath her heavy chest, squirming against the barrel below. Wondering if something was the matter, slowing to a degree, she got her answer almost immediately. Bringing his mouth to her teat, he latched his lips around one nipple. The additional pleasure was staggering, damn near forcing her to please him with everything she had.

Save for the steady sound of their bodies colliding and the occasional muted groan of bliss, the room was eerily silent. There was no violence, no primal and hedonistic sex - no, Pear and Mac made slow, sensual love. Each absolutely adored the other, for one reason or another, and the tender moment was the apex of their shared affection.

As pleasing as it was for Pear, she wasn’t sure how long her darling would be able to last. Wishing for nothing more than to make the occasion as memorable as possible, she leaned back. As her breast Popped from his mouth, she giggled. If he was going to cum inside of her - so help her, she’d do her best to give him the best climax of his entire life.

“Here,” she whispered, gently grabbing his wrists and brought them to her bosoms, “now you can play with them all you want.”

The subtle shift in positioning, besides allowing her more control, gave her an unfettered view of his upper half; when she brought him to finish, she’d be able to see his gorgeous face. Resting her hands on a counter and crate respectively, she set upon him with renewed vigor. Bouncing on his lap, utilizing her substantial strength, she brought her full sexual might to bear.

Gazing down at him, though her heavily lidded eyes, she couldn’t imagine a more perfect sight. Her cherished son, sweaty and struggling to meet her enthusiasm, looked like a perfect little angel. Though he was handsome at his natural size, there was no denying how positively adorable he currently was. Fondling her tits, staring up at her in open awe, his tiny hands drifted to the sensitive buds of flesh.

Mmmmmmm,” she moaned, as he pinched and twisted her nipples.

Whether or not Mac was aware of just how impossibly good he felt, Pear couldn’t say - regardless, she was quickly being pushed to her limit. Harder and harder, faster and faster, she pistoned herself on his shaft. The barrel they’d mounted rocked and jostled beneath them, yet it held firm.

Seconds passed, then minutes, as the two grew increasingly energetic. With Mac’s medial ring scraping against her g-spot, and the tip of his glans rhythmically slammed into her womb, Pear was only dimly aware of his flaring stallionhood. Throwing his head back, fitfully bucking into her, his soft cry was the sweetest symphony she’d heard.

Mama,” he mewled, his face contorting in rapture.

Teetering on the brink, keeping her furious pace, Pear hung her head and smiled. Clutching him tightly in her depths, she fucked herself with reckless abandon. Though she didn’t have to speak, some part of her needed to give voice to her deepest, darkest desires. As Mac throbbed maddeningly within her, listening to his faint mewling, she was granted her wish.

L...let it all out for Mama,” she huffed, a split second before she was tipped over the edge.

With the pervasive warmth of his seed seeping into her core, Pear came with all the devastating force of a tsunami. Her toes curled, her voice hitched in her throat, and her marehood gushed climactic nectar over his waist. Rocked to her very core, struggling to breath, she was filled with his potent essence. While she’d had innumerable climaxes before, this one was leagues beyond any of her past.

Cathartic and profoundly strong, the crescendo allowed her to do little more than haul air into her lungs. Filled with his Mac’s chaste load, feeling it leak out of her stuffed entrance, a divine satisfaction welled up within her. Gratified beyond all reasoning, she leaned in and wrapped her arm around his head.

Pulling him to her chest, feeling him suckle her breast, she hummed cheerfully to herself. With nobody to bother them, she saw no harm in drawing out her son’s milestone. She’d done it, she’d made a stallion out of him - moreover, the two crossed a line from which there was no going back. As his softening length slipped from her sex, uncorking the wellspring of spunk trapped within her, she quivered.

“Big Mac,” she began, heavily pushing herself up, “I want to ask you something…”

Peeking up at her, with milk dribbling down his chin, he swallowed. Though he didn’t speak a word, his inquisitive expression let her know that he was curious about whatever she was about to say. Reaching down and softly wiping his face, a mischievous glint flickered in her eyes.

“Tomorrow night, after everything is closed down, do you want to help your mama clean up?” she breathed, her marehood winking and leaking his seed.

“Eeeyup!” he bleated, launching himself forward and wrapping her in a hug.

Returning his affection, delicately stroking his back and mane, Pear embraced her son. Their love had taken an unexpected turn, but she knew it was all for the better. Something told her that she and Mac would be spending more time with each other - especially when they were away from prying eyes.