Sleepwalking

Qurrals, Cheap Therapy, and Hammy Down Cows

"You want a cow pillow?"

Error nodded. He really wanted a cow pillow.

"That you fold in half?"

Error nodded again. He needed this more than anything.

Ink looked at him with question marks in his eye sockets. He was clearly confused. Blatantly curious, why else would he question Error? Why does Error want that specifically? Had he grown a fondness for stuffed animals? He took care of the plush given to him by White.

"Um, okay. Yeah, sure! I can make one. What do you want it to look like?"

Error took a picture he had drawn off his desk and showed it to Ink. It was, surprisingly, well drawn.

It was a puffy, old, worn-down cartoon-looking pillow in the shape of a cow. It had a single ear and a pair of oval black plastic eyes. There was a stump on the back hanging loosely from the cow; that was its tail. Thank goodness Error labeled things. Not in a specific manner, but he labeled them best he could. There was a string hanging aimlessly on the side of his head where an ear should have been. His eyes had string peeking out from around them as if they'd been sown in a multitude of times. He was a white cow with black spots. Lastly, the thing holding him in a cow-like position was the velcro strap under it, sticking to the other half.

"That looks oddly specific, Error. This looks pre-owned. Are you sure?"

Ink wasn't sure where Error's mind was, but it left him slightly uneasy. Where was Error going with this? Why own something so... ugly? It was ugly! Ink didn't know how else to explain it.

'I need it to look like this. E-X-A-C-T-L-Y like this.'

'I want to be able to S-T-I-T-C-H him back up when he falls A-P-A-R-T.'

Ink sighed quietly. Error was going through something Ink was pretty sure he didn't understand. Hell, Ink didn't understand, and he had to make this. He stared at his friend with a wondering look. He had to know why Error wanted this particular item. What could it possibly do for him?

Ink took out his paintbrush and said, "I can make it look exactly like that. Hold on."

He took ink off his paintbrush, rubbing it into every crevis of his hands. Error sat the paper down. He moved away to give Ink room to work, placing his hands just above the paper. He closed his eyes and controlled his breathing.

He moved his left hand in a circular motion above the paper before moving his right hand up and down in a fist. The ink in his hands floated out through the cracks of his hands, and it looked like it was painful. He winced but continued.

Did this... hurt him?

He moved the ink to outline a cow pillow, as referenced in Error's drawing. The details molded and twisted together spontaneously. It was forming with swiftness and flexibility. It twirled around his fingers with caution as it put itself into the the object he was making. He intertwined his fingers, squishing magical black ink in his palms. It changed color to white, filling in the outline of his creation. Specks of black ink substitute strategically placed holes.

Then POP!

A pillow in the shape of a cow sat where the paper used to be. Error gasped and picked it up.

'He's just like I dreamed.'

"What?" was the last thing Ink said before passing out. Blood was dripping from his hands in minor cuts. Bruises littered his fingers, painful black, popping purple, dying green, and depressed yellow. Chills crawled up Error's spine with guilt. It was hurting Ink!