[It is gracefully, albeit unorthodox for the classical definition of the word, and she could easily lose him if she so desired. Fortunately, that doesn't seem to be the case, and though he often trips, slips and stumbles over the debris and decaying stairways, she doesn't leave him behind.

The eyes are foreboding, and he stiffens and swallows accordingly when they flash at him from the darkness, but they seem frightened of Heather, at least enough to matter, enough to keep them from springing into the light and tearing at the two specter-like children.

As her pace quickens when they approach the junkyard, she beckons, and he does his best to keep up with her. The rubble makes him nervous; the general clutter and disorder of the scene automatically increases his anxiety. But if this is the way out, he's glad to brave it.]