"And you couldn't get a big enough herd of cows going to sustain themselves before too many things had happened. I see. Is there any income going on here at all?"

"...No." 

"Why not?"

"The townsfolk don't like us. And moving Lucy safely is a dicey prospect." 

"Because of footprint-related concerns?"

"...And I'm...not safe to be around when I'm so hungry I can't think straight." 

"...have you ever eaten a person?"

"I didn't mean to."

"Christ. Okay. I'm gonna register my disapproval for your unsustainable animal husbandry and make you all the megafauna you want and maybe your own cottage vat meat operation so you can open a little butcher shop."

"The herd was sustainable until I got so big. Grandfather didn't know I was going to get so big." 

"It may be that nobody could have done any better but the time for emergency measures was the first year there were only as many new calves as you'd eaten cows in the last twelve months." Sigh. "I am going to... look up a ten minute presentation on American history, go through the highlights up until 1928, and see if there are any discrepancies that don't directly have to do with extradimensional hornets or deities, sound good?"

"Alright. Even if we don't find anything, you might want to compare it against a history book from our world, or someone who knows more about history than we do--relatively few of Grandfather's books were on history, and most of them were old, so anything between 1860 and 1913 I honestly couldn't swear to." 

"That's a good idea. This is just an overview against common knowledge." He produces an item made of metal and plastic and glass about the size of a small leek and turns it on, projecting a rectangle of light into the air. He looks at the light and it moves around while he nibbles his lip thoughtfully and finally pulls up what he wants. "Here goes An Abbreviated American History."

It's very abbreviated, and Cam only continues for the first two-thirds of the content, since after that it's past the current date. There are pictures.

"What is that?" 

"The Washington Monument."

"...That looks very small and portable to be a monument." 

"I think he means the picture. The obelisk. I think I saw a picture of it once." 

"Oh. I mean the, uh, device." 

"Oh. A computer. They are a futuristic device. This one requires brain surgery to operate."

"...Why are you using a device that requires brain surgery to operate? Can you conjure that but not books?" 

"No, I could conjure books but they'd be way less convenient. Also the nature of the brain surgery is I have another little device in my brain, so in my case, I just materialized it where it needed to be; it only needs actual scalpels if you don't have a demon. However, it does rely on specific brain architecture enough that I don't think I should try giving either of you one like this because I do not know if you may have oddly shaped brains."

"We probably do, yes. --Can you conjure the Necronomicon?"

"Probably. That one of your books that's falling apart?"

Nod. "It's the most comprehensive one, and also the one with the most pieces missing. I still have unhealed wounds from when I broke into the Miskatonic University library trying to access the complete version--our version doesn't have the ritual to summon Hornets, we had just run out of cows, and I was desperate. If there's anything else in there that could help us--manage what we are--I don't know if we'll stop growing at eighteen like full humans but if we don't that's going to be a problem at some point no matter how many cows are available to eat--" 

"You guys aren't eighteen yet?"