It was a cool afternoon in Autumn; leaves were beginning to gracefully fall off bright orange, pear-green, and golden yellow trees. Children played merrily along the raining leaves, skipping around and either catching them, one by one, or gathering a huge pile and bouncing in it, laughing like maniacs

Gibson gaped at the window, trying to catch a certain green monkey enjoying the fall. He crinkled his nose and looked about, side by side, up and down.

It was a wonder Otto wasn't outside.

"Antauri?" Gibson called, inspecting the view a few more times. "Have you seen Otto? I have something that needs to be mended, you see, and I'm postive Otto-"

"I haven't seen him since this morning," Antauri interjected softly.

Gibson gazed over his shoulder and winced. Antauri was on the floor, his mouth and eyes shut, his legs crossed, a relaxed posture sitting atop a blue-green pillow. Gibson backed away slowly, knowing this wasn't exactly the best time to interrupt the silver simian. He slinked out of the door and into the hallway, quietly sliding the door. He sighed.

"Well, this surely will be difficult," Gibson grumbled, strolling angrily past random doors and closets. "Otto could be anywhere with that curious mind of his. He...he could be eating, or sleeping in some abnormally random place, or-" He abruptly paused, noticing the familiar light jade colored tail wagging lively in the air. Gibson poked his head into the room, ogling his dark black eyes around. This chamber was a small library, with different types of books scattered on the floor. He sighed again, picking up the books from the floor. Otto just sat there, his own eyes simply imprisoned by a book seated comfortably in his lap.

"Honestly, Otto..." Gibson muttered, stacking the literature atop a shelf. He walked up to the green monkey and glanced over his shoulder, expecting the pages to have dozens of pictures of brilliant hues and excitment. You couldn't imagine how surprised Gibson was when he actually saw the folios all yellow and brown, wrinkled with age. The writing was in black ink, scrawled, and it was composed in a disorderly fashion that covered the entire page. Blotches of black stained the edges and in some parts the middle of the leaf.

"Otto..." Gibson finally said. "...What are you reading?"

A wide smile crossed Otto's face. "You'll never guess."

Gibson gave Otto an exasperated twitch and grabbed the book instantly. He browsed through it, hoping to catch some clues to what this manuscript was. It seemed so ancient. Otto waited, the grin growing on his lips, causing the flame in the blue simian to arise higher and higher. Finally he flipped to the first page, his head lowered, examining it harder. The style was in a thin black, written in a horrible attempt to do it in cursive. Dark splashes made it antagonize Gibson's willingness to endure this torture of not understanding something for once.

"It's in a complicated form of script," Gibson admitted with a sort of complaining tone in his voice. He closed the book, staring at the dulling rusty-dyed cover. "How am I supposed to read this?"

Otto still waited. He tapped his metallic tail patiently on the ground, making an entertaining rhythm, causing Gibson's tail to flare almost viciously.

"Otto...."

"Nuh-uh," Otto shook his head, taking the book away from Gibson. "Ask me first. I can read it clearly."

Gibson narrowed his eyes and held in the urge to throw one of the dictionaries at that smug face of his.

"Fine," Gibson growled stubbornly, his curiousity overpowering him more. "Please, Otto, explain it to me. I don't know what it is."

"Thank you," Otto nodded with satisfication, pressing the book against the floor. He opened the soft hardcover and turned to the first page. "See this?" He ran his finger past the two words that started the entire manuscript. "It says 'Mandarin's Agenda'."