Information


Comfort has a minion!

Staci the Magical Special Bear




Comfort
Legacy Name: Comfort


The Custom Nostalgic Kanis
Owner: Dracona

Age: 12 years, 1 month, 2 weeks

Born: February 11th, 2012

Adopted: 12 years, 1 month, 2 weeks ago

Adopted: February 11th, 2012

This pet has been nominated for the Pet Spotlight!

Statistics


  • Level: 80
     
  • Strength: 94
     
  • Defense: 12
     
  • Speed: 12
     
  • Health: 12
     
  • HP: 12/12
     
  • Intelligence: 152
     
  • Books Read: 135
  • Food Eaten: 0
  • Job: Ardent Art Archivist


In a dark corner of a large toybox, a group of the most sentient toys have gathered. They hear the stories every night, and ooh and ahh at the amazing parts. In the very corner sits the storyteller - a tired and beaten up brown stuffed rabbit. She has one eye hanging loose, held on by a wisp of a thread, her fur very thin in patches, and a little bit of stuffing coming out of a hole on her chest. There are scuff marks and grime of many hands holding and cuddling her, baby drool and being dragged along. She has seen so many adventures, and now she shares them with her captive audience: the other toys in the toybox.

None of them have seen sunlight in a very long time.

The old Rabbit sits carefully on the number blocks. She has always had the '1', as she is the oldest of the toys. She moves a little to get comfy, and starts her tale.

"When I was a much younger bunny," she rasps, with a voice that sounds like an out of tune violin, "I lived with the Woods family. They were poor, but the father worked hard. I don't know what he did, but he always came home tired and covered in sawdust."

"What's sawdust?" squeaked the curious knitted Mouse, Knitter, who was, at that time, knitting a tiny scarf.

"I got some of that in me!" said the old stuffed bear, Staci, who was also considered old at half the Rabbits age, but never told the stories as well as the moth-eaten Rabbit could.

"It makes his head thick" retorted Moron, the cymbal clapping Manchu.

"Oh, hush," said the Rabbit, "stop your nonsense." at this, the Manchu hung his head, and thus satisfied, she went on, "The father wasn't there very often, and words like 'depression' and 'war' were sometimes said."

"What does ..." began the tiny Mouse, only to be silenced with a look from Staci.

"These words were sad words, and made the father and mother very worried. Of course, as always happened with children, they knew this and worried about their parents too." the Rabbit wheezed, "My human at the time was little Timmy, and when this was going on he was only little, so I saw a lot more than many, as he took me everywhere. I was his 'Favoured Pet'" she said, proudly.

A gasp rose through the group. To be a Favoured Pet was so very special. Not every child even HAD a Favoured Pet, so it was even more special than you might think. The Favoured Pet would go everywhere with the child and be dragged up hill and down dale, through mud, wind, rain and dust. They would have to be pried out a sleeping child's hands to get washed and dried before they woke the next morning.

She went on, "I stayed with Timmy for so many years. Played with many other children and toys, and slept in his bed with the other children until he had almost grown right up. In fact, he kept me next to his bed until the day he started packing his clothing." The old rabbit paused, caught in a moment of memory, "I thought he might be leaving home to make a new family of his own, as his mother had before she gave me to him, but it was not to be. My beloved Timmy picked me up and talked to me." she paused again, "He hadn't done that in so many years...." she sighed and started again, "He talked to me about his decision to leave. I think he was trying to persuade himself that he had done the right thing. He talked of a group of his friends who had gone with him to fill out forms. To 'do their duty for king and country', he said. He told me that he was going to have so many adventures! He mentioned places I had never heard of.... France, Germany, Poland and Belgium were some of them. He talked a long time, about how he would miss his mum and little sisters, and how glad he was that dad hadn't got in the army due to his bad arm from an accident years before.

He was going to become something called a 'digger' and earn medals, save lives by the dozen. He had grand plans, Timmy did, and he smiled. But there was a little sad look in his eyes, and I didn't know why..."

The old Rabbit paused in her storytelling. The silence stretched out until Staci nudged her with a soft paw to being her back from where she had gone. She started and blinked her one good eye, looking again at the mesmerised toys surrounding her.

"What happened to Timmy?" squeaked Knitter, her nylon whiskers all a-quiver.

The scuffed Rabbit looked sad, her ears drooping. "I heard a knock at the door one day. Mother screamed and started crying, and father was talking to some people. I couldn't see them, as they were in the other room. But when Timmy's sisters came home from school they sat on their bed, crying and hugging each other. It seems Timmy was somewhere called Borneo, fighting in the war they'd been talking about, when he was shot. He died."

A deathly silence had descended on the group, and a single tear tracked down the tired old Rabbits cheek. "My Timmy was only 18."

She took a deep breath, "The worst part was that the war was over only a couple of months later. I heard the girls talking when it happened. He would have been coming home to have a family. I would have gone to his children, like his mum had given me when he was born. But they gave me away instead."

There was a quiet in the toys, as they had not heard this sad story before. Then the Manchu Moron spoke up, "well, you still found children to love you, even if we've been discarded these days because of those electronic toys." The bitterness in his voice told its own story. Of too many nights hidden away while their children played with things called Sega, Atari, and now Nintendo and Wii. A few other voices agreed quietly.

The bear was about to berate the younger toy when they heard a muffled cry from beyond the box. They stopped and listened, hearing Mother come in to calm the upset child.

"Sounds like Sarah isn't well," commented the wooden Mallarchy, whose wheels were knotted with string.

And then LIGHT!

Sarah's mother looked into the box with a worried look on her face, searching for something. The lines on Mother's face smoothed somewhat. The toys could hear Sarah breathing badly with congestion, when the mother reached down and snagged the old rabbit by an arm, lifting her swiftly out and closing the box, leaving the other toys in darkness.

Staci smiled, "some things don't change, it seems. Children always need us. That ol' rabbit will always be the Favoured Toy. Comfort by name, and Comfort by nature."


Name: Comfort
Age: 96 years
Type: Stuffed Toy Rabbit, brown fur, sewn nose and button eyes, one in need of repair.


Profile Code: Dain template by Lyonid
Story: Dracona
Pet Overlay: Dracona
Sarahs Toybox image: Dracona
Banner image: Pngtree

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great to snuggle in winter

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I think I need some fixing

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You always ask questions!

Moron
Please don't clap!