"How's this?" You turned around the sketching book to face Yarny. He nodded happily, and you presumed that meant he liked it.
The drawing wasn't very detailed, or good, for that fact, as you weren't really the arty type.
You sighed and lay back on your bed, all the while Yarny was watching you. You thought about your old house and your two boxer dogs who had sadly passed away recently.
You hadn't wanted to move.
You couldn't get over the deaths of Cooper and Scout, your boxer dogs.
But still, your parents made the decision by themselves, not fully considering what you wanted.

~~overnight~~

You woke up in a start, remembering the things that had happened last night, and wondering if it was all a dream. You sat up quickly and looked at the bedside table, and sure enough, there he was, peering over the side to see if you were awake. When Yarny saw you, he stood up, waiting for you to say something.
"Oh," is what you said. He put his hands on his hips and faced the doorway.
"Do you need he-" you were about to ask if he needed help to get down, but before you could finish your sentence he was climbing down the front of the shelves, climbing on the handles to reach the ground.
"Huh!" You said, half surprised. "You don't always need help..." You trailed off and then started again when he went to the doorway.
"No!" You said, almost too loudly. You didn't want your parents to get suspicious. "You can't go out there." You said in a whisper that made him turn around. "My mum and dad will see you." As you explained he looked like he had only just realised that you weren't the only one around.
"Wait," You said as you looked for your dressing gown. "Can I put you in my pocket?" He nodded but seemed to be unsure of the idea.

~~~~

You sighed again as you looked at the cup of hot chocolate sitting before you and your photo album. The album was only filled with pictures of your old house and your dogs.
Yarny was placed in a pocket on the chest of your dressing gown, and was only just visible.
Your mum came out of the hallway and into the kitchen, looking at you worriedly.
"Are you ok, Y/N?" She asked, putting her hand on yours.
"Yeah, I'm fine." You replied stubbornly, moving your hand slightly to get hers away.
She moved it away quickly, not wanting to annoy you, and as she did, she knocked the mug that was full of hot chocolate over. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as the mug tipped straight onto your open photo album.
"NO!" You yelled, filled with grief and panic. You felt Yarny peek his head out of your pocket.
You shut your eyes tightly in dismay.
You opened them.
All you saw was a wet, soggy book with nothing left of any pictures.
"Oh my gosh! I-I..." Your mum stared in surprise at the accident.
You looked up at her, with a frown as big as the house, grabbed the book and stormed upstairs, back to your room, almost jerking Yarny out of your front pocket.
All those memories... Were lost...

~~~~

"GAAAHH!!!" You yelled as loud as you could at yourself in the mirror, throwing your hands above your head.
Yarny was sitting on your bed, just watching you rage.
"WHY, WHY, Why, why..?" You started to tremble. You sat down on the other end of the bed, opposite to the small woollen doll, with the book in your hands.
You stared down at its soaked pages, not wanting to believe that this had happened.
Those were the only photos you had. The ONLY PHOTOS that anyone in your family had. And they were all ruined. Nothing but shrivelled, tinted brown, stained, and ripped paper.
"What am I gonna do.....?" You asked him rhetorically. "What now? I've got no photos."
He tilted his head slightly. You fell back exhaustedly onto the bed. He got up and walked to you, peering down at your face, as he was just about a hand height.
Something seemed reassuring.
Somehow you knew he was confident.
Of what? Well. You didn't know that.

You sighed again and looked at him sorrowfully.
"I don't even know if you're real," you said in a tiny voice. "But- But I want to believe so." You finished, gave him a weak smile and sat up.
He was beckoning for you to come somewhere.
He jumped off the bed and you had a pang of fear that he had hurt himself, but as you stared hopefully, you saw that he was running to the doorway.
You smiled a smile of relief and followed him.
"You still can't be seen," you reminded him in a strained whisper.
He nodded and kept on going forward.
Out of your room, down the stairs, into the lounge room. Luckily for Yarny, your mum was nowhere to be seen; probably doing something in the study.
He stopped in front of a little waist high stand with a framed photo on it.
"Oh!" You exclaimed happily. "I forgot about this one!" You knelt down to be eye level with the photo and a bit closer to your little friend.
The picture was of you as a little kid standing with your two dogs outside your old house.
"But how did you know this was here?" You looked down at him and he shrugged.
You saw a little piece of red wool tied in a knot on a jagged but of the stand. The jagged bit had always been there, but the wool hadn't.
Yarny suddenly unleashed a woollen lasso from his hand, attached it to the wool and climbed up to the photo that was bigger than him. He turned to look at you.
"Wow," you said, raising an eyebrow.
He turned to look at the photo again, climbed back down and left the room.
Just before you turned to leave, you noticed something in the back ground of the photo;
a trail of red wool.