102 Anon is Sick
Either it's been ten minutes or an hour since you woke up. The passage of time has become an enigma to you for a long while now. Or maybe it hasn't been that long, that's kind of the point of this feeling after all. Either way, you've grown tired of laying in bed though you still feel groggy and listless. You rest on one arm to prop yourself up. It shakes under your own weight and, feeling curious over this strange new fatigue, you add the other's strength into sitting up.
As a groan escapes your lips and pops echo from stiff joints, you note a strange disconnect from your conscious and subconscious mind. It's like if you had the thought 'what am I think of right now?' you would find no other voice in your mind beyond that question. A boundless void for the thought to echo into as you sit there blinking.
"What time is it?" You grumble while waiting for your eyes to focus.
There's a dull throbbing in your left arm, your hand tingling as the blood brings back feeling. You give it a few flicks, flexing it reflexively as wait for things there to feel normal again.
"9:34am," the clock reads.
An alarm was meant to go off at 7:00am so you grunt in frustration. Then you notice a catch in your throat and have to cough to clear it. You've spent so long in Equestria that you've forgotten many things. Like how many years it has been since you arrived for one, what another human being's face looks like, and many more vague recollections that seem more silhouette than memory. Par for the course at this point.
As you run a check on your body's condition, you feel like there is a memory you're unable to recall. You can feel the recollection there but it's hidden away like a stone in murky waters. It takes some time before you realise. The aches, joint pains, and fatigue could maybe blamed upon your age or even a particularly bad night's sleep. But you catch yourself sniffing from a runny nose a few times, your throat is particularly hoarse, and an occasional dull throb in your head makes your sight blur.
You head into the bathroom and pull out the thermometer. After a few minutes you check the reading. 38°C (100.4°F). You take a deep breath and try to recall what the normal temperature is supposed to be. It's been so long ago that the memory is hazy at best. Nothing you feel confident staking your health on. As this hasn't happened in Equestria before, you can't help but feel uneasy as you make a mental to-do list when suddenly you are interrupted.
"When's breakfast?" Moonie asks before she even appears around the corner.
"Now, I'd say."
Without another word, you organise a simple breakfast for the two of you then eat in silence.
"Are you feeling okay?" Moonie asks with a level of uncharacteristic concern.
You shrug. Now you frown at your the sudden impulse to lie. She may be a child but she's old enough by now to not be coddled like that. Surely.
"I think I'm coming down with something."
"What do you mean?"
You shrug, sincerely this time. "Not sure. I've never been sick in this world before."
There's a brief pause as Moonie stares straight ahead. Her face somewhere between deadpan and stern. You finish off the last piece of your toast while watching her. She looks as if she is deciphering something. Or plotting. Yes. This definitely looks like the plotting face.
"What? Never since being here?"
"Yeah, pretty lucky all things considered. For a while I thought people just didn't get sick here," you chuckle slightly. "Then Luna once tried to power though some infection until the fever made her collapse. Princess Celestia was pretty furious at her for that."
"Isn't that... Bad?"
There's a slight delay in your mouth opening and words coming out because your brain does a double take to process the conversation twice over. You were about to reply with Luna's illness being indeed pretty bad at the time before you realise she was talking about your own.
"Hard to say... Runny nose, cough, fatigue, and maybe a slight fever."
"Maybe a fever?" Moonie asks incredulously.
"I forget what a temperature is meant to be. The normal range. For humans. I don't feel warmer than normal but I think it's a little higher than it should be."
Moonie shakes her head before she glares at you in both shock & mild horror.
"How does one forget such a thing?"
"It's been decades since I arrived. I barely remember the last time I was sick. Anyway, these are basic symptoms. It could be a cold, the flu, or some other infection."
You keep your voice cool and calm in hopes Moonie will relax a little. Her body language has become very tense and stiff. Now she's leaning on the table towards you with a strange expression. There's an ever changing mix of emotions on Moonie's face that has you unsure of what exactly is going on in her head. Then again maybe that's what is going on in her head. A whirlwind of emotion. Which makes you worry. Just a little. Kinda. Kinda a lot.
"What do we do?"
You smile at her warmly when she looks at you with a strong determination. Moonie isn't the type to show her affectionate feelings, or many other positive feelings for that matter, but she has her ways of showing she cares. She'll want to do something together, at times she'll want to just hang around you even as you both do your own separate things, and at times she tries to help. Though each in her own unique brand. The memory of waking up in the mornings surfaces to mind, of her playing quietly or reading in a corner of your room. She would wait patiently for you to wake up, unwilling to disturb you most mornings, but would still want to just be around.
However this seems to be a different thing for her. She's not the type to worry and fret over you. Honestly in your relationship, you're the one that has to do all the worrying and fretting as Moonie goes about her life almost without a care or concern. Perhaps that's the joy of childhood. Either way, you're noticing Moonie's breathing has been quickening slightly. So you begin to lay out a plan. Hopefully passing it off as you knowing what to do will help. Both of you.
"I'd like to go to the doctor's before work. They won't be able to do anything but getting some record of things as a precaution would be the smart thing to do."
Moonie nodded. Then she opens her mouth to speak but pauses. Her eyes glaze over to somewhere distant then snap back to meet yours. Her stare is piercing and intense. She opens her mouth to speak once more only this time words come out.
"You aren't going to work."
Moonie's tone is authoritative and is spoken in a way that will not accept any argument. It's almost parental. Actually, it's exactly like yours when you put on your parental voice. You scoff a little at the idea of the role reversal.
"Oh?" You ask with a raised brow, "And why is that, little miss?"
"You are sick," she replies as if she were the only adult in the room.
"I have a few things that need to be done today."
"But as you are sick--"
You cut her off by raising a hand, gesturing that you're not done yet.
"The rest I can put off. It wouldn't even be a half day's work. An hour, two at most."
Moonie glares at you once again. However this time it's something else. Disappointment? Irritation? Stubbornness? Each guess feels like it misses the mark. Whatever it is, it's definitely stony and displeased.
"How about this, while I'm with the doctor you could run to my office and collect the papers I need. Then I wouldn't be pushing myself to make a trip out. I'll be able to work at home under your watchful eye. I can't get tempted to sneak in any extra work."
She seems to consider this for some time. Once or twice she glances your way though only briefly. Once she appears to reach a decision she takes a deep breath.
"Very well, your Queen graciously accepts your terms. And... she shall hold you to them."
You're now sitting in the hospital waiting room with Moonie. You explained to her back at home what you needed for work but she insisted on coming with you. And now she seems intent on waiting. All the while, you find yourself feeling a little moved by this stubborn will to look out for you. Even if she's kind of impetuous about it. You're definitely not about to argue over it and risk losing entirely. So you wait a few minutes. The whole time to try to hide the strain you're feeling from walking here. It's a small uphill walk but with your body's endurance down the drain, you're ashamedly feeling tired.
"You know what, wait here." Moonie states as she leaps off the seat.
You watch her, curious. At first it seems she is heading over to the counter but then she turns and shoves her way through some double doors. Without a sign nearby, you're not sure exactly where she has barged into. Which makes the rising panic even worse. Not only has your child brazenly wandered off but she could be walking into who knows where. As your heart rate rises, you wonder what you should do in this situation. Just as you're about to go talk to the nurse at the desk, a yellow-orange stallion with a brown mane and white coat stumbles out. Followed soon after is a beaming Moonie. Your heart rate continues to rise.
"Uh, Mr Anonymous?" the doctor calls anxiously.
"That's me," you say as you stand up.
Hesitantly you walk over as he gestures for you to follow. Moonie continues to stand there, grinning. And you notice the doctor take a small side-step away as he walks pass Moonie.
"What did you do?"
"I explained the situation," she says without meeting your eye.
Moonie's expression is cool, calm, collected... and devilish. It's a smirk no other living creature could claim to recognise better than you. You know this mischievous grin from the thousands of times you've seen it. It's the kind of smile only the trouble makers of the world can display after satisfying their malevolent urges to delight in some schadenfreude.
"Well, if I start getting prodded with needles like a lab rat, I'll know why," you say dryly.
"I'll have a word with him if he does."
That vaguely sounded like a threat to your ears. And with that distant look now in her eyes you can tell she is off imagining the future. One of possibility and plotting. Only when you watch her creeping grin gain more and more teeth do you second guess accepting Moonie's help. This is indeed a new side to her. You never knew someone could be maliciously helpful but here you are.
From here, Moonie heads off to your office while you follow the doctor. The poor stallion is already looking overwhelmed and somewhat harassed from whatever Moonie did to him. Once you explain your symptoms to him, he starts to look worse.
"I'm not sure how... Especially because you've never been sick before. A-And--and there's the matter of..."
He trails off and you nod knowingly.
"I know. Honestly, I think it's a minor cold or something," you shrug, "But I wanted to at least have something about my condition written down."
There's a small pause.
"In case I get worse," you say pointedly.
The doctor suddenly snaps to attention with a bit of a start.
"Oh, yes, that's a very wise precaution. Here, let me--"
He grabs a monitor that looks like what you use to check blood pressure then seems to fidget in place, moving from side to side and making impatient noises.
"Could you please stand up?" He finally asks.
You do and the doctor looks at your backside while you feel confused.
"Um... You don't have a tail."
"Yeah."
Your tone is matter of fact though with some mild amusement at whatever miscommunication is going on here.
"This is an oscillometric monitor, we can monitor a few things like heart rate and blood pressure. We put it around the base of the tail but..."
The doctor looks at you imploringly. As if you were the medical professional between the two of you. Though as you think about it, you'd probably be the closest to qualified on that score. Which isn't saying much.
"Arm," you state, giving your bicep a tap roughly where you recall having that test before.
"Alright, but, you know..."
He trails off, not ever explaining what you should know. You decide it best to just go with the flow of things right now. The doctor is stressed from being out of his field of expertise and the dull throbbing in your head is threatening to escalate if you don't take it as easy as possible soon. He takes a few tests here and there but ultimately as he has no idea what is normal for you, he just writes it all down.
"38.5°C (101.3°F). Is that normal?"
You shrug.
"I dunno."
"I see."
A nervous sweat begins to bead upon his brow as he writes the final notes down then he excuses himself for a minute. While he is gone, Moonie returns wearing a saddlebag.
"Where's the doctor?" She asks, looking around the room.
"He'll be back in a minute."
"Very well."
She takes a seat beside you just as the doctor returns. Once he notices Moonie, he freezes for a moment. His body is at a total stand-still. You'd think someone stopped time if it weren't for the trembling in his eyes. Then he begins to move again in a way that looks like he is awkward inside his own body. You turn to Moonie and give her a parental scowl.
"What?"
She looks back at you as if affronted but you aren't buying it. Moonie holds her expression for a moment but your watching eyes are unyielding so eventually it causes her to scoff then look at the doctor.
"Here is a copy of the results, just in case. I've filed ours away should you need to return."
The doctor stands there silently as if that was all for a moment. Then Moonie frowns.
"And? What do you think is wrong with him?"
"Oh, I don't know. It seems like a flu and Mr Mayor Anonymous seems to agree. But as he has never been sick before we cannot be sure."
"Is there nothing you can do? Nothing you can give him?" Moonie is standing up now and pressing with an odd rigidness to her voice.
"Well, we don't know how his system will react to it. It could make him better or worse... Or, you know, worse."
You hadn't given the medication angle too much thought as your mind is processing things one step at a time on what you need to do. And the finality on which the doctor delivered the latter part sends a slight chill through you. Moonie grunts and shakes her head. A tension steadily rises in the room alongside a certain someone's hot temper. As if in a desperate bid to fill silence the doctor hastily continues.
"I'm only really trained in pony biology. Maybe Miss Morab, the local vet, might have a better idea."
The pervading temper in the room now turns icy. The poor doctor's eyes flicker to you for the briefest moment as he desperately doesn't want to take them off Moonie's. Admittedly up until now you had been watching with a bit of detachment. You're aware of what's going on but something in your head is preventing you from actually focusing on it so you've not cared as much as you should. While part of you was curious, you're actually suspecting it's whatever you've got causing you to zone out for a minute. You can even feel the sweat from this fever pooling on your lower back. You unstick your shirt with one hand and try to flick it a little, hoping to dry your shirt out some.
"An animal doctor?"
"Moonie," you say flatly.
"What?" She replies, her tone biting and irritated.
You raise a brow and put on an unamused face, "Breathe and try that again."
Moonie examines you for a time. Her eyes scan over what feels like every part of your expression like some predator weighing its odds. Her body is tense and her face screws up in contemplation. But then she lets escape a small breath of air. In the corner of your eye, the doctor lets out a breath of his own in relief yet also takes two steps back for safety's sake.
"What?"
Moonie's tone is still grouchy but the snappishness and aggression has been replaced with a cool and calmness. A cool and calm anger, clearly, but you'd never expect her to be able to let her temper go in an instant.
"You don't get angry at a carpenter who can't fix the kitchen sink."
"What does that even mean?"
Your brain does a double take again, re-examining your own words to see if they make sense. Internally you nod to yourself as you decide that they do. You think. Moonie screws her face up in confusion and stares deeper into your eyes, as if some explanation might be written on the back of them. You just blow a weary little raspberry then get to your feet.
"I'm not feeling well, let's go home," you state as you make your way to the door, "Thanks doc."
He waves back to you.
There's a moment of hesitation for Moonie as she clearly wants to do or say something more but once you open the door she scurries after you. As you both walk back, she spends most of it looking upwards at you and barely looking where she is going. The only reason she doesn't bump into anything or trip over something is you opt for just watching where you're both going, rather than scolding her for worrying too much.
"Anon?"
You glance up from the desk where you are working to see Moonie leaning on it across from you. Your mind seems to be overcome with a wanderlust. Or at the least seems to unable to focus right. Even as you look Moonie dead in the eyes, it takes a second before you actually register the fact she's in front of you.
"Yeah?" You say, though it comes out more like a grunt.
"What can I do?"
There's a moment of silence as your brain's gears catch up to speed.
"You can read, play with your toys--"
"No," interrupts Moonie, "I'm asking about you."
"Oh... Well, I'm okay thanks. I've got some water to keep hydrated, thermometer is here to regularly check on my temperature, and I'm taking my work slowly like we agreed."
Moonie nods in acknowledgement but doesn't seem satisfied with your answer.
"I could get you a blanket?"
"I don't think I should warm myself up more if I have a fever."
"Ah, then I could bring a fan or some ice."
"I should be alright, it's winter so it's cool enough as is."
"Do you want anything to eat?"
"What time is it?"
"1pm."
"Then it's only been an hour since lunch."
She moves to speak some more when there is a knock at the door. You catch her rolling her eyes and huffing in frustration as she moves.
"I'll get it. Stay," commands the filly of the night before darting to the door.
"Is Mayor Anonymous here?" Asks the newcomer.
"Who is calling?" replies Moonie in a dry and impatient tone.
"Lady Gavel."
As she introduces herself she straightens out her posture with the confident ease of society's upper crust. Though you bet she didn't notice that at the same time as her, Moonie mimicked her pose and facial expression. You smile but also have to muffle a laugh. Not only should you not encourage Moonie's naturally mocking nature but also Lady Gavel isn't the type to take insult well.
"And the nature of your business this evening?"
"Are you his secretary?," replies Lady Gavel who knows you don't have one, "The matter is rather confidential."
Moonie bristles as her remark slightly but keeps her voice level yet still mocking.
"I'm afraid Mayor Anonymous is under the weather today--"
"Yes, I am aware of that. However I need to speak with him. That's why I came here. Could you tell him it is in regards to the insurance project."
Moonie pauses for a very deliberately drawn out second then clears her and speaks in a commanding haughty voice, "As I was saying, due to Mayor Anonymous' condition he is unable to take any visitors unless is it of great importance or of a personal nature."
It was Lady Gavel's turn to bristle now.
"Is that so? And who are you exactly?"
"I am Nightmare Moon, daughter to Mayor Anonymous. So in fact you may think of me today as both his nurse and warden. Mainly warden."
Lady Gavel draws herself up to her full height and raises her nose skyward so she is looking down on Moonie even more than her height already allows. Then just as she takes a deep breath Moonie slams the door on her face. A gasp in shock followed by hooves storming off can be heard but you wait a bit before speaking.
"That was rude."
"You saw and heard the whole thing, you could have stepped in."
"I was hoping you were going to handle it a bit more delicately. She's going to be quite the pain when I catch her next you know." You sigh.
"Delicate? Me?"
"Yes. I know. But I swear I could remember teaching you manners once or twice before."
"Oh my, yes, we believe you have been very educational in that department."
"Anon?" Moonie asks.
"Yeah?"
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, same old."
"You just tuned out for a bit there?"
You give her a puzzled look, "What do you mean?"
"I just made a witty remark about being above manners and then you just sat there not moving for a few seconds."
"Ah. Sorry, I--"
"Anon?" Moonie asks.
"Yeah?"
"Are you okay?"
You're about to reply when you notice Moonie is standing on the table right in front of your face. You're not sure why your mind took so long to realise it. In fact you could have sworn she was over by the door a second ago. As you play catch up you ponder over Moonie strained voice then wonder how bad you must appear to her to make her worry so visibly.
"Anon?" Moonie asks.
"Yeah?"
"What's happening?"
"You were right. I shouldn't have been working. I should rest."
"Good," Moonie replies as she hops down to the floor as you stand up.
She tries to support you walking to your room. Though being so much taller and weighing more than her, you try to find a balance between accepting her support so she'll feel helpful and relying upon your own power so you don't tumble on top of her. The last thing you both need right now is an injury.
"Anon?"
"Yeah?"
"What was your temperature last? It's reading 40°C (104°F)"
You make some effort at a reply but it's a garbled mess for the most part. "Higher" is the most coherent word you're able to get out. But Moonie seems to pick that part up. You hear her scurry off somewhere and notice you're in your bed. It's slightly confusing as the last memory you recall is just walking toward your room. You're not sure if you got there or perhaps if Moonie had to drag you.
"This might be pretty bad," you morbidly chuckle to yourself.
There's something wet and lukewarm place on your forehead. At first it seems cold but it must have been a contrast to your own body temperature.
"How is that?" You hear a voice ask.
Unable to summon the energy to fully speak, you make a pleased grunt.
"Okay, good," the voice replies as it pats your chest.
You feel your upper body being moved. The sensation is disorienting and your head feels like a compass that can't find north. It's like your being rocked and rolled into a vague direction until eventually you seem to be sitting upright.
"Drink."
The voice places a cup to your lip and you open your mouth then the cool liquid is pour slowly for you to drink.
"What about a headache?"
You grunt a no.
"Okay, so that's an improvement."
"39 degrees? You said that before and it went back up! This must be broken too."
You grunt in question.
"Oh, no, not you. It's this. Your temperature has been fluctuating for a while. Is that normal?"
You grunt yes.
"Great. Well at least you know that much." The voice grumbles.
You wake up with a sense of clarity you haven't felt in a while. There's some memories of what happened throughout the day but it's all hazy and broken up. No one scene is complete. You place the back of your hand to your forehead and note that you still feel warm but you're breathing easier and your head feels clearer. While this is likely a sign you're on the upswing, you're still not feeling great. So you make an effort to not get your hopes up.
"9:35am," the clock reads.
Then you notice the glass of water next to it and greedily gulp it down. Beside you Moonie is sleeping and you're able to piece together that the distant voice in all your foggy memories was her. She must be exhausted looking after you for so long. So you move very very slowly out of bed to go to the bathroom. Standing up makes you feel a little dizzy at first but you take it slow. After that you're refilling the glass Moonie left you when you hear hoof steps. They're moving at a speed not quite a walk and not quite a run so you step out of the kitchen for Moonie to find you.
"You're up."
"Yeah," you croak.
The two of you return to your bedroom. It's not until you're both laying back down that the conversation starts.
"How are you feeling?" Her voice is soft. It seems uncharacteristic almost but it fills you with warmth and that hardness that could be associated with her is still there. So she sounds caring.
"Better."
"I can see that much. Your temperature is down, you're coherent, and you're able to move on your own. But that doesn't answer my question."
"My nose feels blocked and runny all at once, my muscles ache, my joints feel like stone, while my mind feels clearer it still feels like there is a fog or a delay to my every thought, and I feel sweaty."
"You should take a shower in a bit then."
"Yeah, I will. Now, what about you?"
"I'm not the one who is sick," scoffs Moonie.
"Me being sick doesn't mean something can't be wrong with you. You've been through a lot."
There's a silence for some time. There's a tense and ensuing pressure to it. As if something is coming. And it's because of that atmosphere that you sit quietly and wait. Moonie might be processing how she feels, working out how to convey it, or maybe even summoning the willpower to talk. Either way, you can tell she is going to talk but it'll take a moment. And that's okay.
"I'm a little annoyed that you don't know how to look after yourself better. I mean how can you forget something so important as what your temperature is."
You nod, "Yeah, I'm a little disappointed in me too... Like I mentioned before, it's been so long since being sick was an issue so I must have gotten complacent about that kind of info."
There's another pause and you can feel Moonie shift about uneasily beside you.
"It's not so much that."
"Then what is it?"
"I am annoyed about that of course, but it's mainly that... It's just... This is the first time you've been sick."
"Yeah?" You're a little confused but decide to wait it out as Moonie fumbles over her words.
"You've... always been healthy. Always been okay. So much so that it's like you're so sure of yourself and when you haven't you've at least known what to do about it. And it's just today you weren't."
"Honestly I don't really know what I'm doing most of the time."
"Of course you don't. Nobody does, even if some think they do," Moonie rolls her eyes, "Fine. It's now that you know what to do, you know how."
"I don't follow."
"You're always trying, always working, always looking out for people. Not because you know it's what you've got to but because it's what you should do."
"I think I follow, you're saying I try to do the right thing?"
She nods.
"Then..."
"Then?"
"Since when did you care about the right thing?"
Moonie playfully hits you on the arm. With all your bodily aches and pains, it hurts more than you left on.
"Here's an example, you took me in because it was the right thing."
The sudden mention of it catches you so off guard that it fills you with a nervous energy.
"Yeah, I did."
"Why?"
Her voice is low and flat. It's not accusing however that doesn't your brain from taking it that way. So your reply definitely sounds defensive.
"What do you mean why?"
"Why did you take me in?"
You take a deep breath, "Because the princesses asked me to and I felt like..."
Now it was Moonie turn to wait for you. Not only did you need to process how you felt but also how to convey the feeling. And once that was done, you'd need to somehow find the willpower to tell it. It's such a raw feeling that you almost never think about let alone speak of. Being sick also really doesn't help the feeling of being off-guard.
"When you're a kid you need someone. Not just to care for you. You need... You need someone to... to be wanted, to have someone who wants to be there for you. I remember thinking of you as a mischievous little devil but also that you seemed kinda lonely."
Moonie seems to nod approvingly then adds, "What did that matter to you though?"
"There's a lot to that question I suppose but I guess... I wanted to be for you what I needed when I was younger. You needed someone who will always care for you."
Silence returns once more as Moonie seems to ponder over something. You hear her mumble "that's it," to herself but before you can ask she speaks up.
"That's what I'm upset about I guess, who will care for you?"
"Well, I hope that's you. Especially after today."
"I didn't really do a good job of that."
"What do you mean? I didn't really let you at first but I have enough sporadic memories to know you've been looking after me all day and night."
As you say that you pull Moonie into a hug which she offers no protest to. Her head ends up resting on your chest, so when she talks you feel the vibrations at your core, as the two of you lay there in each other's company.
"I didn't do much. Just watched you and gave you water."
"I know you did a lot."
"I didn't... didn't know what to do. I still don't. I wanted to help but I had to sit there at watch."
Your heart pours out for the kid as she gives voice to her concerns. While she doesn't outright say it, it's all about your own mortality. Which brings up a thought to your mind that you don't really think about. Moonie is so long lived to be seemingly immortal. Just that one thought alone brings forward so many other thoughts you don't even want to think about. Most of all the future.
"How can I help?" Moonie asks and her question acts like a lighthouse on dark and foggy shores. A beacon for you to focus on.
"Tell you what, tell me a bedtime story."
You can feel Moonie shift so she can look up into your face as your give an odd smile.
"I've always wanted one."
There's a little pause before you feel her nod then she tries making up a tale of a hero tyrant who frees Equestria from a distant and inactive ruler. The hero tyrant battling valiantly until her moment of victory where she forces peace and prosperity on the land with an iron hoof. The thinly veiled wish fulfillment makes you chuckle warmly a few times as you contentedly wish things never had to change.
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awwww
The fluff is real. And welcome back
What 10922330 said.
How old is the girl now? How old is he actually? He’s been here for decades he said, and he took her in when she was around the CMC’s age if I am not mistaken. She’s having very adult concerns about his longevity…
This was adorable and heartwarming...and I admit, for a bit I was worried someone would be bringing up "getting his affairs in order", especially when his temperature started going over 100...
This was great, flu's are no joke, at 104 you best call a doc, at 105 your baking, and at 106 it's generally curtains as you literally cooked yourself. Crazy what our body does to try and fight an infection.
I love this series of shorts about Anon and filly Nightmare Moon. It was so good to see this!
Moonie wasn't just worried, she was scared. She'd never admit to it, but she was afraid that he wouldn't make it. And I think that she knows that his time is limited, and she's afraid of the day when his time comes. In fact, has she previously actually admitted to someone else that she viewed their relationship as a father/daughter relationship? Has she ever referred to herself as Anon's daughter? I mean, it's been a while, so maybe she has. But she always seems to consider herself as independent, mostly because of her age... if that's the right way to put it. Her connection to Luna qualifies as being as old as Luna, doesn't it?
11029806
I'll have to give you a vague approximate as his age ties into a part of his backstory. The one I've never gone into.
If you were to ask Anon then he would say, "around 40-50 years old," because he stopped counting years ago.
This is just Calvin and Hobbes but ponies and mostly from the parents perspective
She even has a stuffed animal that she carries around everywhere and interacts with like it's alive.
Now I realized that if Anon gets sick with something more serious than the flu, then he has practically no chance of surviving. (even people sometimes die from the flu.) Not only does no one know how to treat him, no one even knows his vital parameters when he is healthy. (even himself.)
And again I finish reading from start to now, I really hope you make another chapter, as these have been very nice to read!