Captain Obvious and the Sun

 “It’s getting dark,” I mumble, trapped under a plethora of cats. Dragons. “Do you have a bedroom?”

“I think,” Fawn says, completely serious. “I like to sleep with the dragons.”

“You think you have a bedroom? THINK?” I gape at her, outraged. Her cluelessness knows no bounds.

“I think,” Fawn agrees solemnly. “It’s so nice out here though,” she sighs, flopping backwards. “It smells nice and it’s warm and comfortable.”

“It smells nice? It smells like wet ca- dragon.”

“None of them are wet, though.”

“I didn’t mean literally.” I sigh. “Poor Miss Fae. We left her to deal with our resident drama queen alone.”

“It will be okay,” Fawn shouts sternly. “Miss Fae is super super super dependable!”

“Yeah, I can believe at least that out of all the things you say,” I sigh. I’m not saying Fawn is dumb or unreliable or anything. She’s just like a very excitable puppy. You can’t exactly expect a puppy to say wise, world-bending things.

“I know, right?” Fawn beams. At first I think she has magical mind reading powers but I realize she’s talking about what I said, not what I just thought. She cannot hear me calling her a puppy in my head. I think.

“Good night!” I say with finality.

“Night-night! So-So, can I borrow the dragons?”

“I don’t exactly have a choice in that. I’m being held hostage.”

“Aww, don’t be so grumpy!” Fawn coos with a giant, sparkly smile that literally lights up the darkening barn. “They’re so cute! Cute! Cute! Cute! Cute! Cute!”

As she continues her rhythmic mantra, I sneeze way too loudly and it echoes through the barn, immediately scaring all the cats off of me. I mean, scaring the dragons off me.

“Aww.” The cats were warm.

“Atchoo!” Fawn sneezes too, successfully scaring the last of the dragons under the piles of hay.

“Really?” I complain.

“S’not my fault. You sneezed first,” Fawn pouts. “The dragons left."

“Hooray, Captain Obvious.”

“Who’s Obvious? What army is he the captain of?” Fawn lets out a loud gasp as though she’s just discovered a great secret. “Is-”

“Just go to sleep.”

***

“Good morning! Good morning! Good morning!” Fawn yells into my ear.

“AH!” I flail my arms out, reminiscent of Ann’s limb-thrashing. “Wha- don’t yell in people’s ears like that!”

“But it’s morning!” Fawn yells. “Everything is awake! And so am I!”

“‘The sky is awake, so I’m awake, so we have to play!’” I grumble.

“Huh?” Fawn gives me that confused puppy-dog look again.

“Nothing,” I mutter. “Frozen doesn’t exist in this world.”

“Let’s go to the bakery to find Ann!” she cheers.

“Do we have to?” I moan. “She’s rapidly deteriorating my sanity. And my eardrums. But I guess you are too.”

“Of course we do!” Fawn cries sternly. “She’s our friend! We need to get her and go on a tour! It will be super fun!”

“Since when were we friends with that ex-deer?” I let her drag me out anyway. Even in the morning, right after waking up, she has enough energy to effortlessly pull me along and once again rob me of the chance of being an independent person.

That reminds me, I guess my theory that I would return to the real world when I slept has now been debunked. I wonder if I’ve just vanished from my bed or if I’m in a mysterious magical coma and this is all in my head.

“Ow!” Fawn’s tight grip on my hand presses something hard into the base of my index finger. Grandma Soph’s ring. I had completely forgotten I was even wearing it. It feels a little heavier than it did yesterday. A comforting weight, but it isn’t so heavy that it bothers me.

“Let’s go!” Fawn demands. “Run faster!”

“I can’t,” I moan. “You’re too energetic for me.”

“You just need to believe!” Fawn gives me a stern, sparkling look. Even when she’s ‘scolding’ me (it’s not intimidating) she still glows like the sun. She doesn’t have a care in the world except for living in the moment. And she does it well, too.