In the midst of the ball the tiny figure had given up dodging. It was too hard in this giant terrible forest of stamping legs, staying out of the way and yet moving. And so he had climbed onto the first shoe he could find and clung as he rode it around. But wait! The shoe was taking him in the wrong direction. "Left! Go left Giant!" He tried to punch the shoe to get its attention.
Unfortunately for him, Fia was drunk, her shoes were thick pleather, and with all the people around her, she assumed whatever she felt was someone bumping into her. The miniature’s voice was drowned out by the crowd noise, and he remained unacknowledged.
Failure. Obviously the Giant was stupid. Yet he didn’t want to climb up its body when there were so many other giants so close that could easily bump into him. So he grit his teeth and held on, letting the giant go where it willed. Until he found his needle and tried to prick the giant’s ankle.
“Ow!” Fia looked down, expecting to have run into some unlatched piece of furniture.
“What… the fuck.” She plucked up the miniature by his clothes with one hand, and pinched his needle with the other, fingers perpendicular to it, so he couldn’t stab her with it again. “Uh, am I hallucinating?”
They were always taking his needle away. Bakura scowled a little and tried to tug his needle back.
“No. This is no hallucination. You have been selected to be my steed, to carry me from the danger. You were going in the wrong direction. We need to go that way.” He pointed far away across the room in a vaguely less people direction.

















