“Missy, you don’t understand. The Cyclops, them be terrible beasts. I fear what they might do to ya,” the Faun cried, now at her side and easily keeping up stride for stride, pumping his arms and swinging his spear forward and back. He grabbed her arm with his free hand in an attempt to stop her.
“Let go of me,” Carling cried without slowing down. The Duende jerked her arm away, revealing red marks from the Faun’s fingers.
The Faun continued to plead with her. “Please, Missy. Please, Missy,” he said. “I don’t want ya to get hurt.”
“Then you shouldn’t have taken my friends,” Carling responded, still running directly toward Higson, Tibbals, Tandum, and the Fauns who were pulling them along.
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