Objectively speaking, it's probably silly to be discussing a name for a stuffed animal with this degree of seriousness. It's nice to be silly, though, and if they decide it matters to them, then there's no reason why it shouldn't. That day on the boardwalk, when he first won Franz for J, was much the same. A bundle of fabric and stuffing can't have an opinion on a name, or make a friend, or be frightened on a ride, but it does no harm to pretend it can. Just as J seemed so fond of the little bear, so is S about the cat he just unwrapped, pleased to have gotten a gift that's all sentiment and no practicality, and one that's so cute, too.

"Frederic, then," he agrees with a decisive nod, smiling over at J before he looks back to the cat again for a moment. "I like it. And I think he'll like Franz, too." Leaning his head gently against J's, he sets Frederic in his lap, his free hand still resting over the soft material. "Really, this is so sweet. I love him." He smiles, still so utterly fond. "I love you. Merry Christmas."