"Yes, I..."<br/><br/>Robin winced when Jude knocked the glass over, only to have it shatter on the stone floor, its ruby contents draining away into the cracks and fissures.  He winced again when she cut her finger upon one of the broken shards.<br/><br/>"Here, let me, Princess," he offered.<br/><br/>Gently he took her hand, the blood welling up from the cut skin.  He frowned, his brow knotting as he brought her finger closer to his face.  A single drop of blood escaped the wound, losing itself immediately upon the spilled red liquid on the floor.  He put his other hand over hers, sandwiching it between his palms, and closed his eyes.  Then his lips moved, and he whispered what sounded like a very faint song.  It was a lovely song, but rather sad. It reminded her of cold autumn nights, and islands of lonely lamplight in the darkened street.<br/><br/><em>On Jude's tenth birthday, her father gave her a puppy for her birthday.  It was a small fluffy Polynesian, and although it barked incessantly and drove her mother crazy, Jude and her sister both adored it.  It followed them everywhere, trying to jump up and lick their faces. It even slept with her in her bed.  <br/><br/>One cold winter day, she had absent-mindedly left the door open, and the dog had wandered out into the street.  The driver of the shiny sports car never even saw it...<br/><br/>Jude was inconsolable. She had cried and cried.  That night, she dreamt that a horrible, giant beast had chased her to the very edge of a cliff.  As the ground crumbled beneath her, and she started to fall, a hand reached out and pulled her back.  She looked up into those eyes, those dazzling blue eyes, surrounded by waves of chestnut...</em><br/><br/>Robin opened his eyes again.  His ears, Jude noticed, were longer than normal, and the lobes, instead of being round, tapered into tips. When he released her finger, it was no longer bleeding.  The cut had completely healed.<br/><br/>He smiled.  Something moved on the floor; they both looked down and saw a smattering of tiny people run across the stone.  Each one had a broom over his or her shoulder, and, as the two watched, the diminutive figures began to sweep the glass shards into a pile.