Anya

Volkov sat up groggily. He had been taking a short afternoon nap, but something had woken him up. The sun streamed in from the windows on one side of his room and cast the entire room in a warm orange glow. How fitting for Kreludor, he thought to himself. But looking around he still could not ascertain what it was that had woken him. He shuffled over to the door, which was still firmly closed. Blinking sleep out of his eyes, he opened it and peered out into the hallway. All was quiet and calm, and there was definitely nobody waiting out there, so it wasn't someone knocking that woke him.

Suddenly he heard a soft, persistent scritching sound. Trying to locate the source of the noise, he shambled over to the window. A subtle movement drew his eye downward and a lightbulb went off in his head. A friendly-looking Barlow was sitting under his window with her paw resting against the glass. She emitted a rumbling bark and Volkov smiled. Leaning over, he tapped on the glass. Happily, the Barlow outside knocked her bubble-helmet against the glass, making a low, hollow booming sound. Yup, that definitely would have woken Volkov from a light nap.

Now, Kreludor does have a lower air pressure than Neopia Central due to its slightly lower gravity. But the atmosphere is still breathable and you can function normally as long as you take it slow. Volkov sat down on the cushion by the big bay window and unhooked the latch, pushing the glass outwards. At this invitation, the Barlow immediately jumped into the room. As Volkov closed the window again, the Barlow wiggled her entire body, pawing at the helmet around her head.

“Just a moment,” Volkov said, as he reached over to help her. It took a bit of trouble for Volkov to figure out how to remove the helmet, but finally the Barlow was free and she barked happily and ran several whirlwind circuits around the room, dodging around furniture legs with astounding agility for her pudgy wide frame.

There was a confident knock on the door and the head of the household staff announced himself. Volkov walked over to open the door for him.

“Come in, Andry, come in! I was just making a new friend,” he said gesturing to the Barlow who had gotten into the closet and was now furiously shaking one of Volkov's shoes back and forth.

“Oh dear,” Andry responded. “I do apologize. She is a stray who some of the staff have taken to feeding. We call her Anya, in the kitchens. She can be a bit wild. Shall I remove her for you? I will also call the cobbler for you, in case your shoe has been damaged.”

“She seems quite sweet,” Volkov mused. “Perhaps I'll adopt her? Do you think she would do all right down under?”

“Her girth, perhaps, would slow her down in Neopia's gravity. But we believe she was originally from Neopia. When she started showing up around here, she had a custom-made bubble-helmet. Petpets born and bred on Kreludor don't have such devices since they are used to our atmosphere.” Andry answered.

“Well that would mean she belongs to someone!”

“She has lived among the staff here for over a year and nobody has claimed her. Nor have we seen any notices of missing petpets around the space dock. I believe her previous owner must've been a tourist who stayed only a short time on Kreludor and then had to return home before he was able to relocate his petpet.”

Volkov still seemed to hesitate.

“It would be a blessing, Sir, if you would adopt her. The staff here, we feed her and we watch out for her, but we don't have time to give her much attention, you understand. I'm sure we would all feel relieved to know she was going to a good home such as yours.”

“Well then,” Volkov said, feeling more confident. “I suppose it's settled. Anya, did you say her name was?”

At the sound of her name, the Anya scurried over and sat sweetly at Volkov's feet. Looking up at him, she gave a short happy bark.