[The last image anyone saw of him was the lump under his blankets as he lie sound asleep. Now, you might notice that not only is he practically on what is supposed to be his ceiling, he's scrambling around all the little knick-knacks he's collected on the ship.... and there is now a frog on his shoulder, seeing as it made its way through the
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Yeah, I'm fine. Just got bumped around a little, and this frog won't leave me alone. You?
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what's with the frogs?
[and the one who is so persistent to sit on his shoulder is now climbing up on his head to croak at the sphere idly]
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The flowers are, at least.
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They what?
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