Spoonlicker Anon Pt. 26

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Summary: Anonymous is a child that no one can understand, not even Flutters. However, Twilight has been steadily making steps to develop a new system of language based on gestures and mannerisms. The creature she once discredited and then feared has become something of a special interest now that she understands a little more on what, or rather who, Anonymous is.

Last Chapter: After trying to figure out what to do with Anonymous, Twilight wakes up in the early morning and heads into the now packed barn. There she creates a series of T charts to weigh the pros and cons of her top two choices. After a brief recap of Anonymous’ time with Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy, Twilight considers how the decision will potentially change Anonymous forever. Still her choice is not an easy one to make and the only way to find her answer is a flip of the coin.

Posted in Thread 1068
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>In the brisk morning of the late summer sun the beauty of Sweet Apple Acres’ landscape is put on full display. Bushy trees nearly picked clean of fruit, freshly dug fields coated with green shoots and leaves that will refertilize the ground, and colorful flowers budding with wild scents inviting the buzzing bees stocking up for the coming winter completely surround the purple pony following the trail from the barn to the house.
>Satisfied beyond content, you hold the answer to the hardest question you have ever faced stoutly in your mind, and as you walk your hooves only grace the beaten path as the euphoria of your eureka could have you soaring in the sky even without wings.
>Springy, sprightly and confident, you begin to feel like your old self again. Your old, top of the world, capable of facing anything self.
>You know, before the whole princess thing.
>As you reach for the doorknob the fidgeting of joy and anticipation shake your hoof to the point you can barely contain it.
>Hope Pinkie Pie is awake.

>With a quiet yet eager swing the door is open and an empty couch only occupied by indents confirms that yes, they are all awake.
>The clatter of porcelain mixed with gentle hums echoes from the kitchen and you pursue the source.
>There Pinkie stands over the stove as fresh as a rose. Her hips gently sway to the soft and cheery melody dragging along her shapely tail, and despite the hour her mane is in perfect condition.
>Well, as perfect as it can be.
>Beside her, pancakes coated in syrup laced with whipped cream and topped with fruit briefly adorn the counter before Applejack quickly snatches them up. A few of those and anypony would be full for the rest of the day.
>The Apple family sits at the table awake and almost as chipper as the pink baker while they dig into breakfast. Even little Applebloom is as animated as any other day showing a fine adjustment to the harvest rush in spite her age.


>Early mornings sure are common around here. No wonder half the town is usually asleep by evening.
>Fluttershy also appears functional sitting tall with a content smile and closed eyes giving a homely presence amidst the crowd. Yet, deep breathes behind a heavy lull give her serene figure more of a resemblance to a sleeping angel, and the bags under her eyes paired with the untouched plate tells the truth about her condition.
>Likewise, poor Spike cannot help rubbing the sleep from his eyes while still trying to manage shoveling the food into his mouth.
>And then there is Anonymous who sits quietly at the table with tufts of hair on their head shooting in odd directions. That same passiveness from yesterday still occupies their motions and surrounds them like an aura, but, most importantly, their plate is half full.
>They are eating.

>Overstuffed pancakes may not be your first choice for hominid chow, but it does contain the essentials.
>Not to mention Anonymous eating is a HUGE improvement.
>While you linger by the door a peppy greeting barrels into you and rolls through your eardrums.
>”Morning Twilight. Wanna pancake?”
>You’ll never forget that voice.
“Actually Pinkie, could I talk with you for a moment?”
>”Sure.”
>She turns her attention towards you, as does nearly everyone else, and pleasantly smiles.
>You shift your eyes from her to the kitchen door several times, but still receive that same smile.
>…
“Alone?”
>”Oh, heehee, right.”
>You lead her into the family room and avoid the glance of those large questioning sky blue eyes while you take a second to prepare for perhaps the biggest decision you have ever made in your life.
>In…and out.
>Alright, here it goes.


“Before I get to why I want to speak with you I have to ask you something that has been bothering me for a while. Were you scared when you first met Anonymous?”
>”When I first met Anonymous or when I first saw Anonymous cause I was startled by the noise like everypony else, but after the initial shock I wouldn’t say I was scared. More like eager with a pinch of apprehension.”
“And that apprehension disappeared when Anonymous knocked on your door?”
>”Nope.”
>She delivers her answer so flatly yet containing that elevated tone of her humor, going so far as to pop the P, as if it was obvious to everyone but you.
“What do you mean ‘noPe’? You showed ZERO hesitation to give it a spoon of cake mix and invite it into your house.”
>She smiles at your ruffled feathers looking as pleased as punch.
>”Don’t you remember what I told you the night we first met, silly?”
>Her question is immediately followed by a deep breath.
>Pinkie, don’t you dare…
>”When I was a little filly and the sun was going doooooown~”
>You swiftly respond by plowing a purple hoof into her mouth.
“Oh no, you are not getting off that easily. Be serious, you ran and screamed from Princess Luna and Zecora.”
>The wound up hurricane blocked by your hoof looses steam as she drops the antics and faces you with a sincere stare.
>You remove your hoof, though that may have been a bad idea as the cheeky hook of her lip is still present.
>”Well, I knew Princess Luna was safe since we brought her back after giving Nightmare Moon a heavy dose of concentrated friendship, which was just so amazing that I kinda wish we got to do it more often, but at the time I was having fun being scared with the kids.”


>“Like seriously all of that running in a panic was really exhilarating and it helped burn off those candied apples I kept getting because it turns out the Apple family take shifts for cart duty on Nightmare Night, but I didn’t know that and whenever I went by I thought ‘That’s funny, I coulda sworn I already went there but I don’t recognize that pony,’ plus their costumes were all so good, and so I would get more candied apples, then before I know it there was someone else at that very same cart—“
“Pinkie!”
>”Sorry. Anyways, you were with Princess Luna the entire time so I knew she at least had one friend to enjoy the night with. Like I said, sometimes being scared is fun but when Anonymous showed up no one was having fun; especially not Anonymous. The townsfolk were just being their usual scaredy-cat selves, but nobody was there to explain that to poor Anonymous or say that everything would be okay in about an hour. Instead, Anonymous could only guess why everyone left, and I don’t think it was a happy conclusion. I can still see the look in their eyes that day, the kind of look that says ‘Wait for me. Don’t go.’ Anonymous needed a friend and that broke my itty bitty heart.”
>Her overly animated self peaks and drops in line with the described scenes ending with a droopy posture while remaining ever playful, but before you can comment she awkwardly snaps to jolly.
>”But then you told me you were on the case, and I knew that with you there everything would be okay.”
”Gee, I wish I had your optimism. What about Zecora?”
>Her cheery rounded brow sharply dives into a harsh line wiping the smile from her face.


>”Zecora had a reputation before you even came here, Twilight. I say enchantress you say alchemist; you say tomato I say tommato. She spends her time making a whole bunch of potions, some of which do nasty stuff like turning a pony into a zombie, and that is not Pinkie keen. When you make something for others it should make them happy and feel good, like when you eat that perfectly warm cinnamon bun with the gooey frosting that just drips into your mouth making you forget all of your worries. Food or drink that is the fundamental idea. Purposefully making something that does the opposite is just wrong.”
>Fundamentals of food?
“She makes those things to help ponies not turn them into zombies. I make potions too you know.”
>”Yeah, but that is different. You are a bookworm with a hobby while she does it for a living. And sure she does it to help ponies, but what happens when someone accidentally break one of her pots and they tell her they are really really sorry and they will replace it, and she is says that it is okay, and then they think it is water under the bridge, then she offers brownies to make sure there are no hard feelings, and of course they have one because they are friendship brownies who could say no,then BAM! Free zombie.”
>What? Where does she get these ideas?
“There are no such thing as zombies. And Zecora wouldn’t do something like that.”
>”I stand by my foodamentals.”

>Why is it you never know which Pinkie Pie you will get each day? If her plan was to make you second guess your decision she is doing a good job.
>She never acts like this towards somebody except…
>A-ha!
“You’re jealous aren’t you?”
>Her voice pitches as high as her now arched eyebrows.
>”I’m not jealous. Why would I be jealous? I make some of the best tasting food in Ponyville.”


“But Zecora has an even deeper understanding of ingredients. She knows the characteristics of most plants and minerals as well as their combinations. She is a master of cause and effect.”
>”I don’t see her going to any baking competitions, which is good because she would probably slip the judges some sort of ‘vote for me’ serum; like a truth serum but in reverse. A lie serum!”
>Nailed it.
>Her eyes lock onto your smug grin.
>”Okay, so I’m a little jealous of her, annnnnd a teensy bit scared. I mean how can anypony not be? She could slip a potion into ANYTHING and we wouldn’t know until it was too late. I’m not exactly a picky eater.”
“You don’t say.”
>”I do say, and so I have to be extra careful when Zecora is around or I could end up growing a pair of wings or something else terrible.”

>The carpet of smugness is jerked right out from under your hooves.
>Even in her confessions she manages to take a jab at you.
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”
>”If I had wings what color would they be? Look at me, I’m as pink as strawberry milk with half the variety. I’m so pink my name is pink. I’d be pink on pink on pink, and that is one too many lightish reds.”
>Why do you even bother?
>Regardless, you have your answer, as silly as it may be. Let’s get back to the matter at hoof.
“Okay, so that explains your reaction to Princess Luna and Zecora. I know I said I had one question to ask you first, but I do have another.”
>”Technically you have already asked six, but who’s counting?”
>Sometimes…just…
“Humor me. What is Anonymous to you?”
>Her sprightly form that dances as if always on stage goes slack as if the curtain has been called for the first time.
>With nose pointed to the floor her lips wiggle with each passing idea while her eyes forever stay at the top of her lids.
>She then innocently returns her focus on you.
>”What do you mean?”


“I mean, I know you will do anything for your friends and family, but we are all aware Anonymous is something completely new. I told you they are not a pet but I also told you that they were a wild animal, and yet…well, I do not want to influence your answer so, please, tell me based on what you think it means. Truthfully.”
>Still unsure, she places a tender hoof against her chest and looks down at her heart.
>"I guess it is like how when you cook for others you give it your best because you do not want to disappoint them. You want to see them happy; you want to know they liked what you made because even though everybody’s taste is different every failure is personal. But for those close to you, you want to make something extra special because you love them so much and are willing to try something new because you know they will still be there for you.
>And then there is that one peculiar stranger. The one you know nothing about and have never seen before so you have no reason to consider them as anything more than a potential friend, but something stands out. Something about them just feels sad, like life has stacked everything against them and shoved them into being an underdog. And you know, you just know, even though it should all be in your head. Then you find yourself rooting for them and wishing there was some way you could help, but it seems impossible.
>Still you try. Even while telling yourself that you are powerless against their nightmare you reach for the stranger and you become invested before even hearing their name.”
>Slowly she lifts her head to meet yours while her hoof remains at her heart.
>”I didn’t feed Anonymous because I thought they were some sort of pet, in fact I never even considered them an animal at all. I feed them because it was the only way I could think of to help.”

>You match her gaze with a gentle smile matched with peaceful eyes.
>She will be a great substitute.

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Posted in Thread 1090
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“Thanks for telling me that, Pinkie. I had no idea you felt that way.”
>Lowering her hoof she selects a more neutral posture.
>”Sorry that was the best I could describe it. It is really hard to put into words.”
“You did just fine, and I think I know how you can help the most.”
>As she stands there like a mellow lump of pudding you let out a final relaxing breath, clearing your head and strengthening your figure.
>Your voice beams with pride and authority as you addresses the one you have chosen to honor.
“Which brings me to why I called you in here.”
>Pinkie’s ears go alert, shooting up and swiveling to take in the serious tone. Her joints straighten, raising her to full height, and her tail goes rigid as if told to be on its best behavior though her mane wobbles with the curious turn of her head.
“Pinkie Pie. Would you be willing to take care of Anonymous?”

>”Do you mean like for a day?”
“I mean until we find Anon’s parents. It could be tomorrow or it could be a few years. I am asking if you would be willing to become Anonymous’ primary caretaker; the one to feed, shelter, and watch over them until we can send them home. Anonymous will become your responsibility; coming to rely on you; requiring you to always be there no matter how tired, busy or angry you may be. In exchange you will have the final say in almost—in ALL future decisions.”
>That mischievous puffy tail hanging stiffly from her backside tugs against the yoke.
>”In other words, you are asking me…”
“Will you adopt Anonymous?”

>The rogue tail breaks free and points skyward while the released tension produces an oscillating twang.
>Her cheeks grow and grow exposing her pearly whites and scrunching the corners of her vibrant aqua eyes.
>A deep whale sized breath inhales gallons of oxygen and you prep yourself for the outburst.


>However, the inflated pink balloon instead shrinks to regular size and she heavily drops her rear onto the floor.
>”Hmmmm. That’s a pretty serious request.
> Feeding Anonymous isn’t much of a problem, I’m pretty much doing that already; hee hee. I’m sure Gummy would love the extra company and I can eventually squeeze another bed in my room. Until then Anonymous could sleep with me, but then there is the shop…“
>Rather than instantly accepting she is giving the situation the consideration it deserves, which is good, but it also means—
>”I need to ask Mr. and Mrs. Cake.”
“Right.”

>Mr. and Mrs. Cake, the two who may very well say no. They have plenty of reason to, and you cannot just ask Pinkie to get her own place.
>Even though Fluttershy is readily available as your runner up the coin in the barn revealed your preference for Pinkie and all that she brings.
>Still it is important that she asks them and you knew this was coming.
“If they say it is okay will you accept?”
>”Absolutely!”

>Streamers practically explode out of her ears from her sudden pop of energy.
>”I’ll go ask them right now!”
>Before you can utter another word she winds up for a run and rockets off.
>It is out of your hooves now.

>Returning to the kitchen, you hope to settle your nerves with some of that breakfast. What greets you is a very empty table with only Fluttershy, Spike and Anonymous remaining, each tackling their pancake mountain.
“Where did everybody go?”
>Fluttershy nibbles at her food avoiding eye contact with you while Anonymous briefly looks at you then goes back to eating. Spike forks in one more large bite, disregarding table manners and replying with a full mouth of food.
>”Applejack and them decided it was best to leave around when Pinkie started singing.”
“You could hear us?”
>”Well, duh. It’s not exactly the thickest door, and you can get kind of loud.”


“I’m not loud. And what did I tell you about talking with your mouth full?”
>Spike quickly covers his mouth and swallows the rest down.
“Wait, how much did you hear?”
>”Not much, promise. We totally didn’t hear you ask Pinkie to look after Anonymous. Oops.”
>Nuts, you were being loud.
>You wanted to progress with your plan through stages, but that means Fluttershy heard already. And if she heard already…
“Fluttershy.”
>She raises her eyes then drops them back down.
>”Yeah?”
“I know you were probably expecting to be the one to care for Anonymous, especially after I asked you to watch them when I went into town, and I can assure you it was a very hard decision to make. Your skills with animals and foals cannot be understated, and you have been amazing with Anonymous. You helped both Anonymous and I at several crucial moments, and I do not even want to think about what might have happened if you were not around.

It was a very close call between you and Pinkie, and the reason I asked Pinkie first is because she lives in town allowing me to be nearby. Not only that, but there is a very real chance she may have to say no. Even if she does say yes I have absolutely no intention of cutting you out of the picture. On the contrary, I want you to be there the whole way. There is no doubt in my mind that despite only being with Anonymous for a few days you have made a lasting impact that they will carry with them throughout the rest of their life, and I would NEVER try to take that away.

So Fluttershy, I want to ask you: would you be willing to adopt Anonymous?”

>Daintily turning her head, she gazes at the puffy checked hominid that would be her burden. Soft empathetic eyes caress the child while her neutral expression lingers in true Fluttershy fashion.
>You know your friend, and you know her penchant for second guessing herself rivals your own.


>Anonymous takes notice of her and stops chewing offering a deadpan stare in return. They then force the food down and give a hollow smile.
>Fluttershy responds with her own genuine yet delicate smile.
>”Of course.”
>Anon’s face warms at the display giving a hint of life to the fake expression, though it does not last long. Once again they withdraw from the scene poking the pancake with their fork.

>Your lips involuntarily mimic Fluttershy’s. Your backup plan is secure, and although brief you have just witnessed proof of Anonymous’ mending.
>Content in the knowledge, you tend to your own breakfast.
>With basic cookery knowledge you turn batter into pancake and eye the array of fixings.
>You know what, you deserve a treat.
>Syrup and whipped cream creates a thin surface layer which soon seats mounds of assorted berries. However, when you go to take your first bite two questioning faces stick to you.
>Regardless, you remain persistent and levitate the forked morsel into your mouth; not that it would stop Spike.
>”So, uh, what’s the plan today?”
>Taste buds tickle with sweet fruit juices gushing atop thick maplely waves cushioned by the sugary cream fluff; the warmth from the pancake base making everything go down smooth.
>It takes a few licks to clear the stickiness from the roof of your mouth.
“Wait until Pinkie gets back I guess. Once I know her final answer we can go from there.”
>So many words, so little time for pancakes.
*chomp*
>Fluttershy chooses that exact moment to ask her question. It is as if they were doing this to you on purpose.
>”Do you think it could really be years until Anonymous can be reunited with their family?”
“I hopf not,” you mutter before swallowing, “but so much of Anonymous is unknown that we have to consider it.”
>Her face concedes in pity while said hominid actively ignores the use of its name.
“I hate unknowns.” You mumble before taking a significantly less enthusiastic bite.


>Spike instantly piggybacks on the question.
>”You said there were some clues on where they live right? “
“Well, yes. Anonymous did draw some pictures and from observing their habits they likely prefer a warm climate and must live near some source of water, but since no one else has seen a hominid before I can’t think of where that must be.”
>”Why don’t I take a look? A second pair of eyes never hurt, and not to brag but I was a pretty important dragon back in Canterlot you know. Professor Ranke and I talked to visitors from all over the world while you were at school.”
>Important he says. However, he does have a point and he was in fact quite the mingler.

>Armed with a second forkful, you point to the living room.
“The drawings are on the table, but you should ask Anonymous first.”
>Spike grabs Anon’s hand and pulls them from the chair causing Anon to awake from their stupor with a look of utter surprise; their plate also left on the table.
>”You gotta show me what your home looks like. Maybe I’ve heard about it.”
>A low groan escapes the confused biped as they both disappear into the other room.
“Don’t just leave your plates— aw forget it.“
>A yellow muzzle clutches one of the abandoned dishes.
>”That’s hokay, ow’ll cwean up.”
>You snort and grab the others with your magic.
>Like candy you were going to have her do all the work.

>After returning the kitchen to its pre-Pinkie condition, you and Fluttershy join Spike and Anonymous.
>Green claw points from the drawn buildings to the hominems along with cheerful banter.
>”You guys sure have a lot of variety huh; kind of like us. You’d think buildings going all the way up into the sky would be easy to see. From my understanding only minotaurs, donkeys and ponies build that tall. Hmmm.”


>With two quick knocks against the table Spike grabs Anon’s full attention. First pointing to Anonymous, Spike then points to the house with the three homiems in front of it, swings an arm high in the air, and finally uses both a nod and shake of his head.
>[You]; [House]; [Tall]; [Yes] [No]
>Anonymous springs into action, banging their fists together, patting their chest, pointing to the house and exploding their arms out over their head like a wave.
>[Yes]; [Yes]. [My]; [House]; [Huge]
>Spike finds himself a crayon and adds his own doodles.
>[You]; [See]; [Minotaur]; [Yes] [No]
>[No] [No]
>[You]; [See]; [Donkey]; [Yes] [No]
>[Yes]
>”Alright, we’re getting somewhere.”

>Anonymous is the liveliest you have ever seen and Spike equally shares in the enthusiasm.
>You watch the exchange with your own coy smile.
>He is your little brother after-all.
>His methods follow yours and he is giddily drinking in the success. Unfortunately, you know how this is going to end.
>Anonymous apparently knows of many species as you found out with the science book, but none of them know of any hominems.
>And giant buildings WOULD be hard to miss.
>Despite all of the evidence things just don’t add up.

>”I think I have a few ideas where Anonymous might live, Twilight.”
>You forcefully hold your smile in place although a close eye would surely notice the fading brightness.
“Keep going.”
>”Right. Next question.”
>[You]; [House]; [Grassland]; [Yes] [No]
>[Yes]
>[You]; [House]; [Water]; [Yes] [No]
>[Yes]; [My]; [House]; [Small] [Water]. [No]; [My]; [House]; [Big] [Water]
>”No sea or ocean huh?”
>[You]; [See]; [Deer]; [Yes] [No]
>[Yes]
>”It has to be near White Tail Woods. I’m sure of it.”
“The deer know that area like the back of their hoof. They would have surely known about the hominems and Anonymous has already stated that they are not a Leshy.”
>”Maybe one of them is lying?”


“It is possible, but what about the lack of any sort of buildings outside the forest?”
>A soft yet certain voice enters the fray.
>”I can promise you that Anonymous is not a Leshy. Leshiye are forest spirits who hate leaving their homes, and they commune with every woodland creature. We would all be able to understand them if that was the case.”
>”Maybe they, um…shoot.”

>Anonymous catches onto Spike’s outburst; their wanting eyes turning desperate and enthusiastic smile falling fast.
>Spike swiftly props up an optimistic exterior and holds up a single one of his claws.
>”Just a little hiccup, that’s all. Give me one minute.”
>He examines the pictures again, his brow wiggling with every thought. You keep quiet knowing full well how annoying any distraction can be when wearing THAT look.
>Anonymous shows the same patience, granting Spike his request without a peep.
>However, as each extra minute ticks by the ends of that smile pull farther and farther down, and those excited eyes become heavy.
>Fluttershy gives an exceedingly growing amount of comforting ‘Shhhs’ until…
>Tears burst forth, a loud wailing noise clogs the room, and all of you rattle in shock.
>Fluttershy practically body checks Spike out of the way in order to wrap around Anonymous.
>”There, there. We’re looking for your family really hard.”

>Anonymous simply stands there crying, unaffected by the warm fluffy yellow that surrounds them.
>Spike recovers from his forced trip to the floor and he raises a claw while opening his mouth to speak, but something about the wall of Fluttershy keeps him quiet and his claw returns to his side.
>You merely give an internal sigh. Until you find a lead this is going to become a regular thing.
>Your aloof remark barely has time to register as you catch sight of Spike.


>His shoulders slump forward bringing his head along with them. His arms hang idle at his side and his green crowning fin sat limp atop his head like a wet toupee.
“Maybe we should give Anon some space.”
>Acting quickly, you snatch a few choice pictures and books in your magic then pull Spike into the kitchen.
>Setting things onto the table, you cast a silence bubble muffling the noise.
“Well that could have gone better.”
>Spike doesn’t take the bait.
“Cheer up, you were making good progress.”
>”It sure doesn’t feel that way. We’re back to square one, and all I did was make Anonymous cry.”
“So you got a little caught up your research and forgot who it was affecting. Everypony knows I’ve been there.”
>”Several times.”
>Smart aleck.
“Plus, at this stage practically anything would cause Anonymous to cry. Need I remind you of a certain somebody who ran away from home –twice-?”
>”That first time was totally justified.”
“BUT, just because we are in here while Fluttershy is with Anon doesn’t mean we don’t have our own part to play.”
>The papers ruffle as you straighten out the various drawings and splay the maps across the table.
“There’s a puzzle to solve and a small hominem to get home, so let’s do what we do best!”
>Spike wastes no time jumping into a chair to join you.
>”Okay!”
>He cracks open a book diving right in. You are all too happy to follow; you and your study buddy like two peas in a pod.
>Sticking to his original hypothesis, he combs over the area around White Tail Woods while you focus on perhaps other continents.
>Despite the uncertainties you do have your hunches, as well as a few other ‘facts’.
>Warm, open with nearby trees and ‘small water’.
>Not the most comprehensive of lists, but you have worked with less. Successfully, you might add.


>As morning ticks by two sets of eyes travel the littered deskscape leaping from one item to another leaving faint ‘hmmm’s in their wake; the journey of investigation casting a light haze over the anxious minds.
>Taking a moment to recollect yourself before the next foray, your gaze settles on your good-hearted partner.
>Spike stands on his chair to get the best vantage point, hovering over his collection of maps, diligently studying them like a little general.
>Similar to how he was when helping you research Nightmare Moon, a cure for poison joke, or anything else you freaked out enough for him to deem important.
>Such a smart boy when not panicking about his place in the world. You could use some of his common sense.
>And he could definitely use some of your self-confidence. He sure talks a big game when it is you doing the worrying, but he never seems to apply those words to himself.
“Any luck Commander Scales?”

>His vision stays glued on the map; his posture unchanged by the interruption.
>”I still say White Tail Woods is the best bet. It would make so much sense. It is close to us, trains run through which would explain seeing the occasional zebra and donkey, there are trees mountains lakes and ponds around, and there is a lot we do not know about it. I got nothing for the missing buildings, though.”
“I think it may also be a bit too cold for Anonymous.”
>”The weather isn’t much different than here.”
“Right, and Anonymous is always in that blanket.”
>”Ah.”
“But you may be on to something. I’ll ask the guard if some of them can check it out.”
>He finally lifts his head to meet yours.
>”Also, I was wondering…notice how Anonymous drew the pictures of the past few days? They look kind of like a comic book. Maybe they would like to read some of mine? Even if Anonymous can’t read, the great thing about comic books is that the characters are so animated that you can tell what is going on anyway.”


“That’s a great idea. I was considering starting Anon with popup books myself.”
>”Popup books? Really, Twilight?”
“What?”
>He sighs and rubs his head.
>”You’re lucky to have me. Stay here, I’ll be back in a jiffy. And no baby books.”
>Hopping down from his chair he goes for the living room but swiftly turns around.
>”Actually, think I’ll go out the back.”
>Silly dragon.