The small child smiled, and slid her matchstick back into its box. Then she slid out the chair quite deftly, her cocoa now finished and set down on a side table. She stretched her legs a little and looked up at Styx, “No need to be upset, there will be time for that later, there always is,” she exclaimed with a shrug.
Then she grabbed Styx’s hand, “Hold tight, I shall get us there all the quicker,” she stated with intent quite clear. What happened next was instantaneous, both human and herald became quite fuzzy, and then like will-o’-the-wisps they were pulled, quickly and with all haste to their location.
It was quicker than walking, but slower than running, and it felt quite like being taken by the hand and tossed off into a freshly running stream. Except instead of drowning you were tossed and turned to your destination. In fact, if one were musically apt, they would much compare it to a dance of sorts.
There was another pause as Sarah Appleton stared at the sentences spiraling out from the knight of nightmares that was standing in front of her. With a slight shiver she answered the questions with a collection of statements quite unbecoming of being answers, “I want answers to my questions from you. So, for every question I answer, you must answer one of mine. So, it’s even. That’s fair!” she complained as her fear wavered into frustration.