• Published 3rd Apr 2016
  • 3,343 Views, 346 Comments

The Anthropologist - Weavers of Dreams



Join Lyra as she interacts in various human-related problems ranging from wannabe Nazis to eldritch horrors that just need some love. No problem is too great that it can't be fixed with a baseball bat or high-powered cieling fan, that's a promise.

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-58- In Our Time of Need

"Did you know I actually bought a house here in Ponyville before moving in?" Lyra asked weakly. She was laid up in bed, where she had been for the past couple of days.

Henry, who was spoon-feeding her soup, as the doctors had instructed Lyra not to use magic for at least a week, shook his head. This resulted in soup dribbling onto the blankets. He cringed visibly. But, Lyra just chuckled.

"It's alright," she said, patting him atop the head. "It'll wash out. But, back to what I was saying. Yes, I did, in fact, buy a house here in Ponyville. Unfortunately, it was already occupied, and the pony I bought it from turned out to be a con artist. So, there I was, suitcase packed, and homeless in some rural town without a roof over my head. To make things worse, it was apparently "Everyone Vacation in the Country Day", so the motel and hotels were packed. Not to mention it was pretty late."

"What'd you do?" Henry asked, after setting the spoon back into the bowl.

"Tried to sleep on a park bench like a bum," Bon Bon, who had just entered the room, said before replacing the wet towel on Lyra's forehead.

Lyra chuckled and sighed happily as the cold towel soothed her brow. "That's exactly what I did. And why not? I'd done it a few times before. Like the time I decided to sneak out of the house as a teenager so I could join my friends at a club. Mama and papa found out and locked all the doors and windows so I couldn't get back in until morning. Once inside however, I got an earful I will never forget."

Henry found himself laughing. "So you slept outside all night in Ponyville?"

"No," Lyra shook her head and tilted her horn at Bon Bon. "This mare wouldn't let me."

"Of course not," Bon Bon stated firmly as she used the previous wet towel to clean up the droplets of soup. "That would just be uncivilized."

Lyra wasn't finished. "She practically dragged me here by my ears, gave me a hot meal, and let me sleep on the spare bed in this basement. Where I promptly refused to leave. A war escalated soon after, which ended with the signing of a peace treaty whereupon it was agreed I could have free roam of the house and fridge as long as I paid tribute to her and her husband for protection."

"It was nowhere near as dramatic as she claims," Bon Bon told Henry, who looked like he might actually believe it. "We let her stay here until she got her affairs in order, then she asked us if we would consider renting out the basement. We agreed, after considering we could use some extra cash for odds and ends. From then on she practically became one of the family."

"My version's better," Lyra huffed and stuck out her tongue dramatically.

"Never a dull moment," Bon Bon sighed wearily. She turned her attention to the colt. "Make sure she eats all of her soup this time. Can you do that for me?"

Henry threw her a quick salute, causing both mares to giggle at the silliness. The earth pony mare then left, leaving the two alone. Henry turned to pick the spoon back up, but was stopped by Lyra's hoof gripping his shoulder.

"How are you doing today, kid?" she asked him softly.

"Mm fine," he said trying to look her in the. But he failed.

"I'm sorry," Lyra sniffed, wiping her nose with the crook of a leg. "We did our best. I'm also sorry I wasn't there for you when you got the news."

"You were sleeping," Henry said. "They said you did more than everyone else. That the reason you got hurt was because you wanted to send me back to my family."

"I wish I could have done more," Lyra said lowering her head until her nose touched the blanket. She gasped a little when she felt him embrace her head in a tight hold.

"No," he cried, "don't hurt yourself again. It's not worth it. Please."

Lyra didn't even attempt to pry him off. Instead she just patted his back. "You are worth it, kid. Don't feel bad about people wanting to help you. We're all imperfect and need each other's support. You're no different."

Henry let go and sat back on the mattress, rubbing some tears from his eyes. "But, I don't like it when people get hurt. I'm just a kid, not like I can do something important."

"Again, stop feeling guilty," Lyra told him gently. "It's because you're a kid that we're going to help you so much. You and every other lost soul. It was my pleasure to go the distance. I'm an anthropologist, Henry. Helping people is my job."

"My dad complains about his job all the time," henry said, trying to make a comparison.

"Well, unlike your father, I happen to love my job," Lyra chuckled at his childish attempt. "It breaks my heart to know that it's not going to be around much longer. Now that no more humans can come through, I'm just going to have to muck through the final pieces of culture shock and misunderstandings until everyone's successfully integrated. Basically, just a year or two left before the last generation, my generation, is no longer needed."

"You're needed now," Henry stated, nuzzling her. A habit he had picked up from being around ponies for well over a month.

The mint mare nuzzled back. "Thanks, I needed that, kid. Now. How about some more of that soup?"

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