The Anthropologist

by Weavers of Dreams

-89- Shadow of Reunion

"Mark," Lyra cried out, lunging forward to hug the jolly looking fat man. The embrace was quickly returned, and she was swept up off the group and spun in an energetic circle, causing the mare to squeal in delight.

"Dr. Heartstrings, so good to see you again, but... what exactly are you doing here?" the man asked, wheezing slightly as he put her back down on the ground. Standing back up straight, he placed a hand on his chest and took a few deep breaths. "You should have sent a message ahead of time."

Lyra chuckled as she tried to straighten out her mane. "Well, it wasn't intentional. Not to bore you with a long story, we kind of got some tickets mixed up at the docks when I went to visit my family in Canterlot. By the time I'd figured it out, it was too late to turn around and here I am."

The old man looked thoughtful for a moment. "Seems odd. How do you accidentally come to the Western Isles?"

"Well, that's not important now," Lyra waved it off. "I don't want to get into that. There's a whole lot of things that I have got to tell you about. Like... say hello to my son, Henry."

The proud unicorn quickly located and held her colt out to the bearded man, her grin practically stretching to each ear.

"You look like Santa Claus," were the colt's exact words. The good doctor almost snorted up a lung as she attempted to suppress her laughter. Mr. Smith wasn't fairing too well either.

His belly did shake like a bowl full of jelly as he let lose a barrel of laughs. Despite not knowing who this Santa was, the other ponies nearby couldn't help but catch the infectious laughter.

"Well, my red suit's still at the cleaners at the moment," Mark finally managed to respond jokingly. Clearing his throat he addressed the unicorn. "Um, Lyra. Correct me if I'm wrong, but... doesn't pony gestation last a bit longer than a couple of months?"

Lyra chuckled. "Adopted, Mark. He was brought to my office just a few days after you left. Brought him home, Bonny, Noteworthy and Twist fell in love with him, and when it became apparent we couldn't send him home... we gave him one. Oh, and he's human by the way. Didn't know if you caught that."

Mark blinked as he looked between the mother and child. "So, just like you?"

Lyra nodded. "Exactly." She froze and shook her head. "Wait. You know I'm human?"

The man shrugged. "Well, I just assumed, really. I mean, after seeing some of the humans that crossed over, I didn't think it was so far fetched. Plus there's the fact you just seem more... human than the average pony I've met."

"I'm an anthropologist, it's just my job," Lyra retorted with a snort, setting her son back down on the ground. "It's really annoying finding out my great 'secret' is so blatantly obvious to everyone."

The man snickered as he patted her mint mane, being careful to mind the horn. "Don't be like that, Dr. Heartstrings. So you're bad keeping secrets. No one's perfect."

"Doesn't mean we shouldn't try," she sighed dismissively. Standing back up, she straightened her stance. "Enough of this. I'd like to hear all about your adventures here in the Western Isles. I'm sure my son wants to here some adventure stories as well. What do you say, Henry?"

The colt nodded excitedly. "Did you fight any monsters, sir?"

There was some chuckling amongst those within earshot. The old man smiled as he knelt down and ruffled his mane. Why did everyone have to do that?

"More than a few, kid, way more than a few," he told the colt with an ominous wink. "However. I think it would be best if we carried this discussion elsewhere. Perhaps, inside the walls so that we can close the gate?"

Lyra took a moment to look about the surrounding forest. The thick, dark, foreboding forest, and she was barely ten feet outside of the colony's concrete wall. Now slightly frightened, she reached out with her magic and pulled her son underneath her barrel defensively.

The effort made her wince. Her magic was returning, but it made her feel rather strained.

"Yeeeaaah, let's do that," she said as she began herding her colt back through the gates, followed by the old man and the archeologist, who had taken her there to await his return. As well as the armed guards who had accompanied him into the alien world of this Western Isle.

And no one noticed the shadow that sprinted inside while they were distracted.

Comments

[pahnazd]

Yay, more old friends! Henry's in for a treat when it comes to story time. At least, I would think so based on Mark's words.
Will Henry sit on Santa's knee while listening to a story?