Mikami had felt a foreboding and darkness lurking around the Mansion for weeks now. He'd been keeping to himself, quietly, but his mind was ever active
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There's something crunching under a table. And if Mikami should peer under the table cloth, he'll find what looks like a very small donkey, munching on some celery stalks on a small plate. Except that the shape of the donkey isn't quite right: it's too small and soft and the hooves just don't look "hoofy" enough.
He might glance up. "Didn't mean to chew too loudly," the thing replies.
"Don't think I'd like that much. Don't always feel like being social. Nobody can always feel that way, just like no one can always be happy, or always sad, or always brave or always scared," he says, shifting his hooves as if he might be shrugging.
"That's good of you. Don't start. You don't want to end up in prison," he isn't sure where something like Eeyore would end up but if somebody commits a crime they did need to go to prison.
Eeyore catches that sigh, then approaches Mikami and, typist willing, will gently bump his soft head against the man's hand before nuzzling it gently. "Won't fix the past, but you can rub my ears if it makes you feel better," he says.
He might glance up. "Didn't mean to chew too loudly," the thing replies.
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He looked distant for a moment, remembering his school years, rife with bullies.
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D'awwwwwwww!
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