“What are you drawing Acacia?”

Acacia, who had a crayon sticking out from behind her ear, and another stuck in her pony tail, looked up.

“I saw a bunny then I wanted to draw a pony.”

Dipper looked down. The pony, which was pretty expertly rendered considering the artist was only eight, was currently devouring another horse whole. Acacia had done a particularly good job on the blood splatter. 

As a responsible adult he should probably be worried about this but, eh, this appealed to his aesthetic tastes pretty hardcore.

“Cool.”

–

It was a bit of a surprise to see Hank at the kitchen table surrounded by colored pencils the next day. Hank had as much of Mabel’s creativity as Acacia did, but it usually came out through violin practice. 

Dipper leaned on the table to get a look. “What’re you doing buddy?”

Hank, fastidiously sharpening a pencil over a napkin, said “I saw a bunny and now I feel like coloring.”

Hank wasn’t good with living creatures like Acacia was, but when his older sister roped her siblings into coloring with her, he usually drew cars. 

On the piece of old computer paper from the library, the Stanmobile was mowing over crowds of stick figures on a street. 

“Looks pretty good Hank.”

“I think it needs more blood.”

“You’re almost out of red pencils.”

“I know. Can I trade you a Tootsie Roll for some more?”

Dipper grinned.

“Make that five Tootsie Rolls and then we will talk.”

–

It wasn’t until he saw Willow on the floor of her bedroom with a ballpoint pen and some cardboard that Dipper knew something was up.

Especially since Willow had to have two teachers trace her hand when they did Hand Turkeys in kindergarten. 

He sat down next to his niece. “Don’t usually see you drawing.”

Willow nodded. “I know. I saw a bunny and then I wanted to make this.”

The lines were nowhere close to straight, but she was still managing a passable labyrinth, in a pattern that Dipper had only seen in some of the more esoteric and Lovecraftian grimoires that existed and-

Fuck.

Bunnies. 

“Where did you see the bunny sweetie?”

“Mmmm out by the trashcan. Me and Caci were helping Hank take out the trash.”

“Thanks Little Fighter.”

Dipper stood up, and went to get ready to pay a personal visit to Uncle Ford.

Seriously. The amount of new fauna the forest was spitting out was starting to get ridiculous.