(AN: This is my first Animal Farm fic! Yay! I just want to say that I love this book, and my favorite character is Mollie. So I decided to do a one-shot from her perspective. I do not own Animal Farm. If I did, this wouldn't be on a fanfiction site, now would it?)
Mollie raced through the open field.
Rain was pouring at her from all sides, but she couldn't care. Well, she did care, but she would have to worry about it later. She didn't even care where she was going right now.
Mud splattered all over her hooves, and Mollie had to hold back tears. How? How could this happen?
Mollie had thought that she was being secretive. Nobody had ever seen her visit the man from Foxwood. She could barely remember how she started. She remembered her going to him at the hedge, pleading him to brush her dirty mane. He was scared at first, but soon started visiting her every day, giving her sugar and ribbons. Mollie had almost forgotten what sugar tasted like, which was a total shame. Though she could only wear her ribbons in private, she loved the way they looked against her.
Mollie reached the fence of Animal Farm. She glanced around, and then kicked a large hole in the fence. It was a tight squeeze, but Mollie made it through. Sighing, she looked behind her. She could see the barns, and the flag, and the orchard where she had worked harder than she ever had before. But she had to leave it.
It had all started three days before. Mollie had been strolling in the yard, and eating some hay. That was when Clover approached. Of all the animals, Mollie had expected Clover to rat on her the least. Mollie had come to Animal Farm as a filly, and Clover had just lost her third, so Clover sort of adopted Mollie. Maybe that was why Clover was so worried that what she had seen was true.
"Mollie," she began, "I have something very serious to say to you."
Mollie had looked up, a little worried. Did Napoleon want them to work harder? Mollie never payed attention at the meetings, so she couldn't be sure.
"This morning I saw you looking over the hedge that divides Animal Farm from Foxwood." Clover continued. "One of Mr. Pilkington's men was standing on the other side of the hedge. And - I was a long was away, but I am almost certain I saw this - he was talking to you and you were allowing him to stroke your nose. What does this mean, Mollie?"
At this point, Mollie had begun to panic. "He didn't! I wasn't! It isn't true!" she cried, and tried prancing and pawing the ground.
Clover wasn't distracted. "Mollie!" she shouted, almost like a reprimanding parent, "Look me in the face. Do you give me your word of honour that that man was not stroking your nose?"
"It isn't true!" Mollie responded, but she didn't dare look Clover in the eye. She had never lied to her before, and soon galloped away.
Mollie had been under the impression that Clover had forgotten about it, or trusted Mollie. But before she went to sleep, Mollie turned over her hay to find her ribbons and sugar gone. Clover must have confiscated it and taken it to Napoleon! Mollie was alone in the barn, as she was always the first one to finish work, so nobody saw her gallop away.
Mollie was now standing in the mud, soaked by the rain. She saw her reflection in a puddle and promptly cried. She looked horrible, with her mane clamped against her skin, and her tail dragging along the mud. Mollie cried even harder, knowing very well that she could never go back. Even if Clover hadn't betrayed her, the animals would want to know where she'd gone, and she'd have to work harder to gain their trust. Besides, Clover would be keeping an eye on her.
Clover wondered where she was supposed to go. She thought a bit harder and got a headache. She hated when she had to think. Then she remembered– Foxwood! How could she have forgotten? She had a friend there, who would probably help her get a home. He might even clip her mane! She wouldn't have to work as hard as she did at Animal Farm.
But which way to Foxwood? Mollie simply walked to the right, hoping to reach it. She eventually ran into a very nice squirrel who gave her directions. When Mollie arrived, she had to wait until morning for her friend to arrive. Though he didn't understand her neighs, he seemed to understand that she wanted to move in, and he led her there. Mr. Pilkington was completely fine, saying that any traitor to Animal Farm was welcome. Mollie didn't like being called a traitor, but forgot about it as soon as she was washed down. Her coat and mane were clipped and, to Mollie's delight, her mane was decorated with ribbons. Her friend gave her lots and lots of sugar. Mollie knew that she could never be happy at Animal Farm, but maybe she could be happy here?
A few weeks later, while pulling a cart in town, she saw some pigeons from Animal Farm. She pretended not to notice them, and they flew away after her master - for she had taken to calling him that - came and gave her some sugar.
Mollie was still living at Foxwood. Sure, Mr. Pilkington had launched several attacks on Animal Farm, both verbal and physical, but Mollie found it easier and easier to turn away every time. She had had several colts herself, almost all of which Pilkington sold, but Mollie saw them often in town. She had two of her daughters with her, and one of them had a filly herself. Mollie was starting to get old, which worried her, but she was still pretty, and that was all that mattered to her.
One day, she was playing with her granddaughter in the field when someone she never expected to arrive approached.
It was one of the ducks from Animal Farm. Mollie sent her granddaughter away and turned to the duck.
"What is it?" she asked. "Is Animal Farm in trouble?"
"You could say that." the duck said. "After you left, we tried building a windmill to get better living conditions. Napoleon brought in Bluebell and Jessie's puppies, though, as his guards. He had trained them to be bloodthirsty monsters, and his pets. Gradually, he dropped all of the Animal Commandments. He exiled Snowball and killed several animals. He feeds us less and works us harder than Jones ever did. The pigs are all above us. We suspect that he sold Boxer to a horse slaughterer to buy alcohol. He even renamed it Manor Farm. Mollie, you need to help us!"
"Help?" Mollie was horrified by this talk, but confused by the last part. "What can I do?"
"Find Snowball. Find animals who can help us. We need new leaders, Mollie, but we can't do it ourselves."
Mollie contemplated this. "I'll see what I can do."
The duck nodded and flew away. Mollie noticed that he was skinnier than any duck she'd ever seen.
Mollie sat in the grass and did something she hadn't done in years.
She wrote her name in sticks on the grass. She laid by it and started humming a very familiar tune.
"Beasts of England, Beasts of Ireland,
Beasts of every town and clime,
Hearken to my joyful tidings
Of the golden future time..."