*Ding dong bong bing...*

"Cock-a-doodle-doo! Cock-a-doodle-doo! Time to get up everyone, 'tis time for yet another day of blood to be shed~!"

...Yawn...    Tut tut...

...

WAIT, SHOOT!

I launched out of the bed immediately, sending the two plushies flying away randomly. Almost at once, I dashed over to the corner desk in the room and grabbed a blank piece of paper from a messy pile of it, followed by the only working pen out of multiple other, dried out ones. Mustering as much creative strength as I could, I started scribbling letters as neatly as I could on the paper. (It ended up being a complete mess.)

During all this writing, I kept glancing my eyes back and forth between the topic of my early rising: The kitchen knife from the last motive.

The other thing my eyes kept bounding between was the words on my paper, still being written down in swift fashion.

Ok, fair enough, I deserve an explanation for you all. Why was I up so damn early writing random stuff while glaring at the knife at times?

Allow me to clear up the confusion: Remember the conversation I had with Rebecca?

Well, she said she wanted to protect Freddy with her motive weapon. And that got me thinking.

Surely Freddy could protect himself just as well? I mean, if he had a weapon to protect himself with. And as most remember, Freddy wasn't given a weapon by Monopotato.

So...    Why shouldn't he have something to defend himself? Y'know, just in case he gets attacked while Rebecca isn't with him...?

And anyways! I'm too young to be wielding weapons!

...Right...?

Either way, I was gonna end up giving the knife to him today. Ever since that run-in with Rebecca, I've been planing to give Freddy a little extra protection with this move.

...Damn, with all of this explaining, I've gotten so zoned out I've started dribbling doodles on my card.

Wait, no! Uh- Darn.

Swiftly scribbling the miswritten words out with a couple harsh ink lines, I soon went over the note once again, double-checking.

...Yeah, I think that gets the point through...

It's not the best, but it definitely does the job.

With my eyelids shaking from nervousness, I slowly reached for the knife laying nearby. It took me a bit more willpower than I expected, probably because I was reaching for a bladed weapon to give to Freddy Fox. 

And said fox just lost his best friend. So...

...Nevermind that, George. His depressive state could be used to target him for murder. He NEEDS something to defend himself with.

As mentioned before, it took a small moment to actually grab the knife. But once I did, I immediately wrapped it within the paper of the note I had thrown together earlier, thus making a makeshift package. It was a delicate work to pull off. Especially when considering that the knife could tear through at any moment with a bit of pressure in the wrong spot.

...God, thinking about that makes me worried.

I-I should probably just deliver this to Freddy as soon as possible. Then the worry will be over with.

Grabbing the blade from the paper coated handle and swinging it to face downward, I started to trot my feet towards the door.

Only to remember I hadn't gotten ready for the day whatsoever.

...Eh, I can go back to my room right afterwards. It's not like I'll be pondering around the place in underwear for the whole day.

With my worry shivering through me, I let my determination take the wheel: Allowing my body to take the steps through the door and into the hallway ahead.

My first sight of the day was (unfortunately) Pedro. Who had supposedly just left his room. And to top it all off, he was staring straight at me, paper in my hand, underwear, absence of upper clothing, all of it.

"...Jeez, George. At least put on some clothes." The pony shook his head in shame, before he pondered away. Leaving me in a different kind of shame.

...Nevermind that George. You've got a weapon to deliver.

Ignoring the self annoyance derived from Pedro's comment, I pushed myself forward towards the door with the pixilated image of a fox adorned on it.

Well...    Here comes the difficult part.

I got down onto my knees. My hooves slapped the lamely gift-wrapped knife onto the floor, soon pushing it forward at the gap between the floor and the bottom of the door.

...Unfortunately, the material concoction halted once it actually hit the gap, sounding out with a thud.

...Shoot.

Uh, ok then...    Maybe if I...   Uh...

I resorted to the simplest answer most people would pull off: Pressing the combination harder against the gap, hoping it would slip through with enough force.

Simply put: It didn't happen.

What did happen was the door opening away right in front of my crawly like body.

So that's...    Amazing!

I fail at delivering the package in the way I wanted, plus my cover gets blown! Excellent work George, totally!

My confidence was gone. A couple two steps were taken near me. Shakily lifting my head up, my eyes saw straight into the face of the fox himself. His eyes, however, seemed to be completely...     Empty.

"...George, what in the hell are you doing."

"Ah! Uh, Freddy, this isn't what it looks like-"

"I bet it isn't." The fox shook his head slowly, giving me the time to get onto my feet along with my package.

"At this point, I doubt anything would catch me off guard."

"Bet ya a slice of chocolate cake you're wrong." I joked a bit, hoping to lighten the mood. I only got a glare of drowsiness in return.

...Well, that went well.

C'mon George, use your head a bit more!

"What did you even come here for..." Freddy blinked at me, visibly struggling to focus on staying active in the small talk.

"Oh! Yeah, about that." I slowly presented the setup in my hands to the animal in the checkered shirt, who took in rather quickly. Not in a rush, but also not hesitantly.

"You see, uh, I was thinking..." I began on certifying my statement as to why I were to give him the weapon, while he let the paper fall to the ground, immediately checking out the rather basic kitchen knife.

However, when I say he checked it out, he checked it like it was under a microscope.

He softly ran his paws across the oval-shaped metal end piece, eventually playing around with the tip while the thumb of his opposite hand fiddled around by brushing across the handle. All the while, his eyes seemed to brighten up a little bit. Not sure in what way, but they brightened one way or another.

"..And so, I decided to give you my knife. As a gift of protection." I nodded at him in worry, hoping that he would in the least, accept the offer.

"..."

"..."

"...George...    Do you realise how stupid of an idea this is?"

"Huh?" My eyes widened.

"You just gave someone who'll happily die right now a knife. What's the point of protecting myself when I'm not sure if I can live with myself..."

"F-Freddy, I know that you're struggling, but-"

"I could kill you right now if I wanted to. Your fault you came here in barely any clothing."

"I-" My body shivered fearfully. Then again, it could also be from the cold....

...Wait.

"Wait...    WAIT- A-Are you going to-"

"Of course not. Danny wouldn't want me to do that." The fox lowered his head, spinning the knife once in his right paw, barely whipping the fur on his chin with the blade.

...Damn, only a minute and he already seems pretty talented with it...

"So...     Are you going to...     Keep it?"

"I don't think I have a choice with myself...    So yes. I will."

I let out a sigh of relief, my inner soul wanting to pat myself on the back in that very moment. But I couldn't - That'd make me look dodgy.

"I do have one question though."

"Oh? O-Oh yeah- Sure."

"...Why are you doing this for me? This is still a stupid as fuck idea, and you know it."

"Well...    I've already said, you really deserve something to defend yourself with, considering your mental state. Plus..." I batted my eyelids at the floor, a half sigh exiting through my nostrils. "...I just think I'd be better off if...   I wasn't wielding weapons, y'know?"

"..."

The silence from the fox was more than enough to push my patience and mentality over the edge. My fear was so overloading me now, I had to resort to bouncing my leg to keep it under control.

"...That's reasonable." Freddy gave a small nod, once again alienating all the worry off my shoulders.

"However, if anything happens to me with this knife, don't blame me. You brought it to me, you blame yourself."

...And now it's all back. Great.

"...Well!" I jumped up from my slumped position of terror, "I think I need to get ready for the day. I mean, I can't wonder around the place in underwear the whole time!"

"Good point. See you later." The fox nodded at me, closing the door in on himself, locking himself from us once again.

...

...That went...    Surprisingly well.

Ok, so...     What now?

Getting ready and breakfast?

Yeah, getting ready and breakfast. Hopefully Emily's willing to make it.

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