Note: This is a lame little drabble about... nothing. Maybe I'll redo it into something bigger later, but for now it's 3:38am and there are far too few BWOC fics and I haven't published anything in years--literally, so I just want to put something out there.
Review, I guess, if you can find anything in these 300 words to comment on.
Merton watched the moth. He knew that moth was destined for bad things. He watched the moth fly toward the candle flame, feel the heat, and fly back again, repeat. He feared the moth was going to catch fire, so he blew out the candle quickly.
"An insect saved thanks to Merton J. Dingle," he congratulated himself out loud. It sounded ridiculous but no one was around at that moment to hear, anyway. He decided to go back to watching the moth. After all, that had been just one of about a hundred candles he had lit at any given moment in the Lair. He trained his eyes back on the moth just in time to see it take a nose dive straight into the hot, melted wax left around the candle wick. He saw it struggle for a second, but there was nothing he could do for it at this moment. He was watching the last seconds of a living creature's conciousness. But that was okay, because, Merton reasoned, it was a dumb creature if it couldn't figure out that hot wax was probably not the best thing to go swimming in.
And so ended another day in his world. The thing with the moth was the most interesting thing to happen to him all day, and the moth was the only living creature he saw all day, but that was fine. Sometimes Merton felt like he never got time for himself any more. Don't get him wrong, he adored and cherished his role as beloved sidekick, and he loved Tommy and Lori more than anything, but sometimes you just need a day where the only epic quest you're on is to save a moth. Even if you fail at it.