The Search for Shiny Things: Part 8

“Catch the rabbit!” the pony roared and struggled to its hooves and rushed after it. “Rabbit! Come back here!”

Dazed, wondering how such a fluffy cuddly-looking animal as a pony could be so heavy and have such a terrifying voice, the teddy peeled itself off the ground. It thought something small flew by, and then something big, and the teddy shook its head until some stuffing fell out and it didn't dare shake anymore. And then the rabbit ran past, and then the pony, and then the rabbit, and then the pony, and the teddy watched with growing fascination for how long they would keep running without actually getting pretty much anywhere.

Lap for lap, the rabbit and the pony kept going, round and round and round. The teddy made half-hearted attempts at catching the leash trailing behind the rabbit as it zipped by, not half-hearted because teddies didn't technically have a heart, but because it was entirely if not absolutely convinced that it had no chance whatsoever to catch it. Nonetheless the pony kept roaring at it to catch the rabbit every time is galloped past and sounded so terrifying that the teddy kept making gestures as if it was trying.

Much time passed in this way, before the teddy started wondering about something. The next time the pony rushed by the teddy tried to ask, but despite going for so long, the pony still kept good speed. Although not as fast as the rabbit. And so with each lap, the teddy got more and more convinced that the reason neither of them got anywhere was because they were chasing each other.

“You should stop,” the teddy bear told the pony, but was thoroughly ignored.

“What do rabbits do-

-when they are frightened?” the teddy bear asked the two consequent laps.

“Run and hide,” the pony answered the next lap.

“Then why is it not hiding?” the teddy bear managed to ask by speaking very quickly.

The pony pondered that for another two laps.

“You should stop,” the teddy bear repeated, then, and this time the pony stopped.

And like a clock the rabbit completed its lap and caught up to the pony and hid between its legs.

The pony bent its head down and stared at the little quivering fluff. “Well,” the pony admitted, somewhat reluctantly, “now I feel stupid.” Then raised it head and stretched its neck and stared off at the horizon as a gust of wind lifted its mane in glorious waves. “And energized! All this running got my blood pumping! I'm a full-blood pony, let me tell you, not some pesky half-breed! I was so tired, I forgot what it was like to run.”

The teddy wondered if getting your blood pumping was anything like getting your stuffing fluffed, and whether or not stuffing fluffing could be achieved by running as well. The teddy thought long and hard on that because it was not going to try. When the thinking was done, the pony had trotted off quite a long way.

“Hey! Where are you going?” the teddy asked.

“To find the candle-maker, and get a candle, and be out at night, and...”

Not wanting to listen to that entire story again, the teddy bear waved a paw good-bye and set off in the other direction. “I helped,” the teddy realized.

The Search for Shiny Things: Part 7

Back on the road again the teddy passed by a statue of a pony, quite impressive in its lifelike colors, it was as though it was really breathing, in fact, perhaps it was. The teddy stopped, stunned, wondering if a breathing statue or a pony pretending to be a statue was more frightening, too absorbed in the question to be frightened at all by either.

“What are you staring at?” the pony snapped and the teddy bear hastily spun on the spot, remembering that trees most likely grew in other places, but mostly because the pony's voice was much more terrifying than any statue, living or not. “Wait! Come back here!”

“You should ask nicely,” the teddy said, glancing over its shoulder, as well as it now could. Which wasn't very well at all, so it simply tipped backwards and fell over.

“Come here and help me,” said the pony, ignoring both the advice and the falling.

In any case inclined to help, although not terribly flattered by the tone, the teddy crawled to its paws and waddled over.

“I need you to hold my rabbit,” said the pony.

There sat a tiny rabbit between the pony's legs, which had been bound quite effectively by many laps of leash. Eyeing the mess, the teddy leaned down for better vantage, and the rabbit twitched and tried to run but only managed to fall over.

“We seem to be like one another, me and your rabbit,” the teddy said.

“Stop talking nonsense and help me untangle,” said the pony.

Bickering with the pony, because teddy paws were not created for the task of untangling tiny rabbits, and the pony was impatient, the teddy struggled with the leash.

“I have stood here for so long,” said the pony. “I am fine with standing, in fact I'm tired all the time so standing still is nice, but I am bored with the view now.”

“If you are tired all the time you need to sleep,” said the teddy, because while it may not know ponies, rabbits, or leashes (or many other things) it did know sleep.

“I sleep all the time,” the pony insisted.

“Not all the time, not now for example,” the teddy said, eyeing the pony, applying its expertise in sleep to judge the statement true after it was said.

“Of course not now, but ponies can sleep standing up, so I could.”

“There is a difference of doing and can-ing.”

And so they went on.

“All I want,” the pony whined, “is to get free of this leash, so that I can go find this candle-maker that everyone is talking about, so that I can get candles, so that I can be out at night, so that I can go on long and arduous adventures, so that I can learn many things, so that I can become a great and awesome person, so that I will get lots of money and a nice house and all the nice things in the world. If only I wasn't tied up and always so tired.”

That was so many things, the teddy's head spun. “For me, all I want is a nice green tree and many shiny decorations, so that I can have friends,” it said.

“That's stupid,” the pony said. “Why do you need those things to have friends? All you need is the friends.”

Quite grumpy over being called stupid, the teddy untangled the last bit of the leash. “There, you're free.” And stepped back.

The pony sighed and took one step, and stumbled over the untangled leash with a loud and peculiar pony sound, and went down quite undramatically by slowly tipping to the side.

“I will help!” the teddy proclaimed and hurried to try to catch the pony.

Unfortunately the teddy forgot in this critical moment that fleshy things weighed considerably much more than plushy things, and so the pony quite unceremoniously slowly tipped onto it instead. “The rabbit!” the pony yelped, as the teddy's hold on the leash was crushed, and the rabbit, terrified by the very slow fall and subsequent very slow crushing, rushed away.

The Search for Shiny Things: Part 6

It took quite some effort, and the loss of some more stuffing, but eventually the teddy got untangled and to the entrance of the hovel, where the hermit crab sat, staring silently at the destruction. The teddy had held on to the yarn of a possibly quite but not really brown color, and held it out for the hermit crab.

The hermit crab shook its head. "That is not the right color," it said.

"I'm sorry about your beautiful hovel," the teddy bear said. "All the soft yarn made it quite homey, but now I suppose, not so much." The yarn was still soft, of course, but it was difficult to live in a place where every step got you tangled stuck.

"Please just leave," said the hermit crab.

"Ah, I would but if I lose more stuffing I may not be able to walk all the way home, where the moth could sew me together, and then it will never be Christmas." The last part was a lie, of course, but the teddy was at this point quite desperate to be stitched together.

"Never Christmas?" the hermit crab asked and eyed the teddy. "We can't have that. Caring for one's home means paying great attention to the holidays. I had already planned the pattern for a red and white house." So the hermit crab took two more needles from its back and the yarn that was less and less brown each time the teddy looked at it, and now seemed decidedly more purple, and stitched up the teddy's leg. "You know," said the hermit crab, "the more I think about it, this hovel was quite homey with the knitting up."

"I think," said the teddy bear, "your parents would be proud of such a home. No need to carry it around on your back if it's that well cared for."

"I shall put it all up again and come to a decision," the hermit crab announced. "I shall knit many decorations, and make it as homey as I can, and we shall see if it is good enough."

It was a shame that the teddy could not linger and get some of those decorations. "I must continue searching for a tree and many shiny decorations, for our house, so that we can have friends," the teddy said, testing the patched up leg. It could be that the leg was even better than it had been before, and now it had a pretty purple pattern. "If you would like to come and visit us, it would be an honor to have a hermit crab or a hedgehog or whatever you decide to be."

"Good luck on your search," said the hermit crab. "If I am not too busy with the knitting, I may consider your invitation."

And so the teddy continued and found the road again. Looking back at the headless giraffe, the teddy patted its mended leg. "I helped," the teddy thought, although exactly what it had helped to accomplish was yet to see.

The Search for Shiny Things: Part 5

The road went bending round a hill, so much that the teddy figured it would go faster to cut through a little forest. Halfway through however there was a little pond in the middle of it. As the teddy waddled safely out of reach of the water - teddies weren't particularly fond of getting wet because they soaked up the water and got so heavy they couldn't move - someone ahead was splashing and yelling. The teddy jogged, as much as teddy bears now could jog, and found a creature trying to get back to shore. It was bundled into a bright, knitted ball with only its head and legs sticking out. The teddy grabbed the bundle and pulled. As they tumbled out of the water, something sharp came through the knitting and penetrated the teddy's leg and tore some stuffing out.

"Oh my, I am so very sorry," said the creature.

"No need to worry," said the teddy bear, "lucky thing I am a teddy, and not a real bear!"

"Come with me and we shall get it fixed," the creature said.

As they waddled side by side to a rock formation, that looked a little like a giraffe without a head, they had to help each other. The teddy bear's leg was not quite as much of a hindrance as the creature's knitted bundle; the short legs barely reached out, and now that the knitting was wet, it sagged and dragged and kept tripping it.

"Would it not be better to take it off?" the teddy bear asked.

"Can't you tell," said the creature indignantly. "That I am a hermit crab and this is my house on my back." The hermit crab wriggled its back to show the knitted bundle. "Hermit crabs cannot live without a house. It so happens that I am very good at knitting, so I do not need to find a shell to use as home, this is good enough."

The teddy was unsure of what a hermit crab was, and so could not debate it, but there was something familiar about the hermit crab's face that was not really crab-like, and it was fairly sure that crabs did better in water than this creature had. "I am in search," it started, but then they entered a little hovel under the headless giraffe, and the teddy lost his words. The hovel was full of colorful knittings, covering the walls and ceiling. "I am in search of a tree and many shiny decorations," the teddy remembered. These weren't shiny, but they were definitely decorations.

"There are trees outside," said the hermit crab. "You are welcome to them, if you can take them."

"They are the wrong trees," the teddy bear said. The teddy had not quite considered how to take a tree or bring it back, once it was found, but that would be a later question. "What about these decorations, could I have some?"

"These are not decorations," said the hermit crab. "I am trying to make a larger house, but it is very difficult. The knitting keeps collapsing." The hermit crab with great difficulty waddled up to a bunch of yarn and pulled two spikes out from under its knitted shell.

"You are not a hermit crab, you are a hedgehog!" the teddy exclaimed, recognizing the spikes at least.

"Hush," said the hedgehog. "Nonsense. My parents always told me I should care for my home well like a hermit crab, so that is what I am. Come here and I will sew your leg together."

The teddy sat where the hermit crab directed.

"I can't find the right color for your yarn," said the hermit crab.

"It is fine with any color," said the teddy, for while not quite color blind, colors were not teddies' strong suit.

“No, no, it must be right." The hermit crab started waddling around looking at one pile and then the other. "Everything must be done right."

The teddy dutifully looked around. Just over the teddy's head hung some yarn, that it thought seemed somewhat in the neighborhood of what might be considered brown. "Let me help," the teddy said, and grabbed the yarn and pulled.

With a rather anticlimactic flop and drop, the entire knitted construction was pulled apart and fell to the hovel floor. The hermit crab, the teddy bear, and everything else inside disappeared under it.

The Search for Shiny Things: Part 4

"These are delicious," the teddy said, and before the panda bear's despairing eyes gnawed the head off of a deliciously brown monkey. "Raspberry and marzipan and chocolate."

"Those are candle ingredients!" protested the panda bear.

The teddy considered that while chewing down the exquisitely textured caramel body of the chocolate monkey. "That doesn't sound like the kind of candles I've ever heard about."

"It's what the wizard said that taught me candle-making," said the panda bear.

"Most wizards are crazy," said the teddy confidently. "I am training to become a wizard, so I know."

The panda bear watched the teddy eat his way through a row of purple bats, and finish with a fantastic banana gold ingot, and over time, a new shine came into little eyes. "You like my candles, I mean, my candy," said the panda bear. "And you're not becoming sick."

"I like them very much, they are most excellent," said the teddy. He would have eaten the entire room, but he was raised to have manners after all.

"Perhaps I should become a candy maker, instead of a candle maker," said the panda bear. "You have opened my panda eyes, teddy bear. A whole new better life for me."

The teddy was taken aback with such grand claims.

"Here," said the panda bear, and handed the teddy four candy canes. "These are my finest candles, I mean candies, I want you to have them. You can hang them in the tree, if you ever find one."

"You should come visit us and see the tree," said the teddy bear.

The panda bear assured the teddy that it would indeed come and see the tree, although the panda bear did not think the teddy would ever find a tree, because panda bears, while friendly, unlike other bears were not necessarily averse to polite lies. And then the teddy took its leave, thanking the host for the lunch. Outside, the teddy looked at the house, that was probably more yellow than brown, or possibly more brown than yellow.

"I helped," the teddy established to itself, and continued down the road.