<span style="font-family: times new roman;">The faerie princess ran through the brush once more. Leaping over tree roots, forging through meddlesome bushes and the like. She let out a pained yelp when it felt like her arm was being pulled out of its socket. Xylie turned around and fixed her creature with a reprimanding glare. Why had it stopped? She tugged on it experimentally and found that it made itself immovable. She frowned. Did it not understand that she was going to get in trouble?<br/><br/>At the thing's questions, Xylie stamped her feet in a small tantrum. She had already told him! <span style="color: #8000FF">"I told you just a minute ago!"</span> She exclaimed exasperated. Was her creature slow in the head? If so, that would be troublesome. <span style="color: #8000FF">"I brought you here to be my servant."</span> She explained slowly in irritation. <span style="color: #8000FF">"You create the most wondrous music. I decided it was to be mine."</span></span>