Anemone
Anticipation; fragility. Protection against evil and ill-wishes.
"...what is this?"
Her nose was so scrunched it might as well have inverted into her face. The monstrosity before her forced her to question everything she had ever known— what had her life truly meant up to this point? What was her place in it all? Had she made the world a better place, or left it worse off? Where had her choices led her?
They led her here, apparently. Sitting in a perfectly comfortable chair, about to eat the most uncomfortable meal of her life because she was an idiot who couldn't possibly say no to that damn raccoon.
Chopper's brows furrowed, furry as they already were. "It's good for you," he said, which was not an answer.
"Doubtful," she delicately replied. "Where is Sanji? Does he know you're doing this?"
"Of course he does!" The reindeer exclaimed, a hoof held to her face. "But Sanji is just as sick as you are, so he doesn't get to cook. Now eat it!"
Her hands refused to close around her spoon. She palmed at the utensil, the motion as useless as her protests. "No one else was available?"
With his hooves, she knew that Chopper couldn't have cooked. His absence only left so many possible chefs on the Merry, and she wouldn't trust any of them in the kitchen, let alone in the kitchen where there were also knives and fire and her poor, delicate stomach.
She paused, her stomach filling with dread at the most likely candidate of the… thing on her plate. Was it supposed to be a sandwich or a salad? "Did… did Usopp make this?"
"I— uh, I supervised everything!"
So, that's a yes.
"Are you tryna' kill me, doc?!" She howled. Her head thumped against her headboard as she threw it back, making Chopper fret around her. "Ow! Anything Usopp made is bound to be poison. No way am I eating it."
Chopper's hands moved to his hips. All three feet of him made quite the imposing figure as his doctorly presence pushed into her space. "I'm sure Luffy wouldn't mind helping me feed you, if you refuse to cooperate."
She blanched. Her fingers promptly fisted around her spoon— truly, it was a miracle. "No, no, I'm good. I'll eat."
"So eat."
He was eager and earnest— expectant. For all she could move them, her arms were no better than jelly. "I'm eating," she lied.
"Right," he said. His disapproval rolled over her in waves. "Fine. I'm getting Luffy."
"Please don't get Luffy—"
"Hey! Did you guys call my name?!"
This time, she wailed as her head thunked against the bed. "Noooo!"
"Shishishi…"
"Luffy," Chopper quickly interrupted. He used two hooves to take the large plate from the board across her lap, and turned towards their captain. "She's refusing to eat this, so—"
Yoink!
"—so… so... " the doctor trailed off, his attention on the empty plate in his grasp. There was a long silence, punctuating by one heavy gulp from their captain, as Chopper processed the situation.
She was grinning. She should have known Luffy would help her, accidentally or not. "Hey, thanks! I owe you one."
"LUFFY! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO MAKE HER EAT IT, YOU IDIOT!"
"Oi! You should have said so!" Luffy defended, standing with a casual slouch to his back despite Chopper's fury. One of his hands raised to pat his flat stomach. "It wasn't very good, anyway… Sanji should make something else! I want meat!"
"I second that idea!" she chirped enthusiastically.
Chopper's ears looked ready to steam. "Sanji is sick!"
"So what?!"
"So he can't cook for us! He has to stay in bed!"
"Oh," said Luffy with a finger up his nose. "Then who's making lunch?"
"JUST GET OUT!"