My breaths are long and deep as we finally get inside. I drop to my knees and hit the wood floor of the kitchen, still hanging onto that short woman. I stare down at the ground as I try to catch my breath. That wasn't exactly easy to do. I didn't expect the dog to attack me so much, nor did I expect it to recover so quickly from me blocking it's path towards this woman. It seems that the two of us got lucky when we got back inside. I can feel pain surging up and down my back and around my ankle. It's isn't unbearable, but clear that the dog was willing to take me down, just to get to her.

I close my eyes as I keep my head aimed at the floor and slowly put my guest down. I can hear her shoes tapping against the wood as I do so, and I prepare to talk to her, and finally get her other arm patched up. She should trust me now, since I practically rescued her from that dog, right? That is the ideal scenario, but my life is hardly an ideal scenario. Indeed, as I set her down, she immediately takes advantage of the fact that I'm on my knees. She uses all her strength to shove against my chest, knocking me over.

I land on my back and I can feel the scratches and wounds that dog gave me being aggravated, from the moment I land. I let out a grunt as I feel the pain surging through me, stronger than before. My eyes shut even tighter as I try to cope with all of it. It takes me a moment to gain control of my body and push myself back into a sitting position. Shaking my head, I finally open my eyes back up, only to find that my guest was gone. The sound of footsteps can be heard near the hallway. I let out a deep sigh, realizing that it is still going to take a good deal of effort for this woman to trust me.

Fortunately, though, I think she'll end up staying inside the house. Having wandered outside and immediately being attacked by that dog again surely scared her enough to keep her in the house. While I did not orchestrate those events at all, that will be useful for me. If I'm to find her and convince her that she can trust me, it will be a lot easier if she is inside the house, to narrow my search field. The foot steps stop as I reach up for the counter and pull myself up, into a standing position. Pushing up with my right foot brings some pain into my ankle, but it's nothing I can't handle.

My full breathing has not returned yet, but I must go onward. There is a lot in my house that she can get into and get hurt with. She's probably still a little panicked and afraid of me, so running through the house would open up a much wider range of dangers for someone short. I say short, and it's mostly right. Normally, when you think of a short person, you probably think of someone around 5 feet in height, maybe a little shorter. This person is less than half of that, like a miniaturized version of a normal person. I don't even know what to call someone that short.

It doesn't matter, though. The woman is still hurt and needs to be patched up. What I can call her can wait. For right now, I just need to find her and get her to trust me, at least for a moment. I come out into the hallway and walk towards the bathroom. Surely she wouldn't go to the bathroom twice, right? No, she wouldn't do that. If she's trying to hide from me, that's the first place she'd think of me to look. It wasn't exactly a huge room, full of hiding places, anyways. She would not be able to hide inside that room for long, despite her short height.

My search does not end up lasting long, though. As soon as I pass the bathroom, I hear creaking from the living room. I turn my head and peek through the doorway, letting a small grin across my face. The cushioned rocking chair is moving, swaying forward and backwards. I take a look at it, for a moment, and then see it magically holding still, in the middle of a rocking motion. That sure didn't take long. I slowly walk into the living room, slipping my other shoe off so I don't have to worry about limping through from only one shoe being on. I make it to the area in the middle of the room and sit down by the table, a good 5 feet in front of the rocking chair.

As I sit down, I make an indian-style-like movement and look towards the chair for a moment, to see if she is going to make a move. I know she's back there now, though, so she isn't very well hidden. At the very side of the chair, I can see tiny fingertips, hanging onto the back of it. I call to her, hoping that I can get her to come out, with the voice of reason. “You can't stay latched to the back of that chair forever, you know. Why don't you just come out, so I can patch up your other arm?”

This action got an immediate reaction out of her. The chair started rocking again and her voice echoed through the room as she screamed out, from her hiding place. “NO! You just want to hurt me, like every other giant freak in this messed up world!” I sigh, realizing that this is going to be no easy task. Of course, I didn't expect it to be. I think about moving back there, but then decide that might not be the best plan. If I want her to trust me, she needs to know that I'm not out to get her. I can't show any hostile actions. Keeping my sitting position, I tried to reason with her. “Listen, you're still hurt. You have a nasty cut on your left arm. You need to get it treated. Please, come out so I can help you. I promise I won't hurt you. I saved you from that dog, didn't I?”

There was a brief moment of silence before my little guest made her response, keeping up the angry, scared tone. “W-Well, yeah, b-but...only because you want to use me, yourself! You want to hurt me and take advantage of your giant size! You're trying to trick me into trusting you, and it's not going to work. You're not going to-AH!” In the middle of her big, yelling statements, I hear something thump against the chair and then hear a painful whimper come from her. The fingers that were on the side of the chair aren't on there anymore. She falls to the side of the chair, tightly grasping her left arm.

I sit there and reach my hand in her direction, thinking about getting up, but stop myself. Remember, Trent. No hostile acts. I call out to the clearly hurt woman. “Are you alright?”