Today was potentially the worst day for Bonny to misplace her plush fox. 

   She had everything else gathered and packed, from necessities such as clothes and toiletries to even more important necessities such as coffee and… more coffee. Her bag was packed with at least a few containers of instant coffee, along with a few changes of clothes (at the insistence of her grandmother; there was no way that she would allow her grandchild to bring only one change of clothes and PJ’s to the institute), toiletries, a handful of plushies and child's toys, and her asthma puffer. Just in case. Oh, and a hairbrush. The utter bane of her knotted haired existence. 

   But something more important had replaced her spiteful thoughts toward the brush- her precious fox was nowhere to be seen. She had the pegasus, lizard, bear, and even had the little plastic butterfly toy she kept in the corner of the room. All toys she loved since she was a kid, and all ones that she had fond dreams of. She had more, of course; a whole closetful of friends that would come to life inside her dreams and out. But alas, there was only so many toys she could fit in the bag. The rest would have to hold down the fort and defend the home from evil dust bunnies while her favorite, most valiant companions joined her to give her pleasant, non traumatizing dreams on the occasion she chose to sleep. She’d need them, seeing she was going somewhere knew. 

  But she couldn’t find that silly little /fox/ 

  She flipped over bedsheets, went through drawers, and rummaged through her closet past a dozen times, but the sly little fox was nowhere to be found. It had to be hiding from her or something; after she deduced that she would need assistance tracking this bugger down, she poked open her bedroom door and called down the hallway of the single story house. “Grandma?! Did you see my fox? Small one, really annoying grin, probably hiding like an annoying little jerk?”. There was a few seconds of silence before she got a response. “Didn’t you leave it out back when you were playing earlier?” the voice responded, causing Bonny to run through the events of the last day in her head. It was hard running on very little sleep, but she managed to vaguely remember sort of playing with the fox out in the front. She was pretty sure someone looked at her weird for playing with a plush toy at 16, so she moved to play in the backyard instead. The memory in her head, she left her room to check out back. 

  She slid open the sliding door to the back, scanning the backyard. It was far from fancy- just a small lot of grass, a shed, and some chairs with a table for eating lunch outside. The previously mentioned fox culprit was rested on the tabletop, and she headed outside and snatched it from it’s spot. “There you are, you dork” she muttered, scooping the plush back up in her arms. The fox was always rather mischievous, and always ended up in weird places the next morning. With her pressing matter of the fox ending, she headed back inside to her room and put the fox in her bag, zipping it up and hoisting it off her bed. She stopped for a second, looking at the mess of a state her bed had been put in before sighing and plopping her bag back down. She did tear her room apart searching for this fox; may as well put it back together. 

  After a painfully long (okay, not that long) tidying up of her room, she grabbed her bag again and left. She ran through a mental list of all the stuff she had in her bag, making sure that she didn’t miss anything. Plushies, clothes, cookies… wait, cookies? Her thought train skidded to a halt when the smell of cookies hit her nose, and she headed into the kitchen to find her grandmother making… lots of cookies. There were a few trays of them on the counter cooling off, and more in the oven. “Uh, Grandma?” she asked, putting her bag down at the entrance to the kitchen. “Are you okay? There isn’t a shortage of cookies in the universe, you know. You can calm down.” 

  Her grandmother looked over her shoulder for a second before focusing back on the baking that Bonny could dub some form of a cookiepocalypse. “Very funny, dear. These are for your classmates and teachers. Be sure to share, and not eat them all yourself.” Bonny cocked a brow at this news. “Grandma, I don’t think there’s enough people in the city to eat this many cookies”. It was an exaggeration; there were a few dozen cookies finished and cooled, and one last tray that would be cool in only a moment. The only work left was cleaning. And, of course, the challenging trial of Bonny trying to sneak a cookie. She made her way over to the treats, reaching to snatch one before her hand was swatted away by her grandmother. “No snacking on the cookies, Bonny. C’mon, help your grandmother pack the ones that have cooled”. Bonny frowned in defeat, pulling out the Tupperware from the drawer. “Fine, fine. Can’t blame a girl for trying.”