Holly runs as fast as she can but the demon's faster. She has no idea where Lightning's gotten to; maybe he found a tree to climb. She on the other hand has been diverted into a treeless hill and she's careening down a slope, trying very hard not to trip.
And the demon's gaining on her.
She's never seen anything like it and neither has Crystal; maybe Book knows what it is but Book's asleep. It's mostly mouth - it looks like a cross between a floorlength mirror of a mouth and a snake to propel the mouth along.
And Holly's not fast enough.
The mouth catches her.
But it doesn't hurt.
Where are we?
Emma's not tired anymore.
The girl lets her hand go and grins.
And extremely confused. But tragically for her, she has no way to ask about this. She can just be confused.
She looks at the mouse, which is now sleeping, then at her hand, then at Crystal Pyay. (And then repeats this a few times.)
...nope. Still no idea what just happened.
It is, in the realm of the crazy magic she has encountered, harmless. And arguably helpful. But... what.
She decides not to worry about it. She's awake now. What does she do now? She has- hours and hours, she's usually asleep now.
Well- being able to ask about it would help.
She makes reading and writing gestures, then points at herself and Crystal-Pyay, then makes a questioning expression.
She wants to be able to ask about things. And that means vocabulary lessons.
Crystal-Pyay peers into her bag theatrically, mimes writing, throws up her hands helplessly: she doesn't have pen and paper.
Emma laughs, and points down the hall. There's writing implements back in the library, in the desk with the map on it, if Crystal-Pyay will follow her.
And then look expectantly at Emma; apparently she'd rather learn the local language than teach her own.
Well, they've already begun this. So Emma writes down all the words they've already gone over (it's a fairly short list so far, thankfully) and then hands the supplies to Crystal-Pyay. She points to the first word. "Bag," she reads, and then looks expectantly at Crystal-Pyay, so she can mark down her own word. Emma doesn't need to learn the language, necessarily, but Crystal-Pyay probably wants some way to remember what is what.
Crystal-Pyay writes two things in her own language, actually, in neatly spaced columns. "Bag," she repeats back, strongly accented but understandable Welchin. She hands back the pen.
Emma runs down the list she's already written, repeating pronunciations. When they finish, she can start on other words; this is, handily enough, a library full of books, occasionally with helpful pictures.
That's indeed very helpful! Soon Crystal-Pyay has a vocabulary of variously pronounceable nouns.
Once Emma has gone through basic nouns, she decided to attempt basic verbs. Starting with mime-able things, because she is lazy. Things like eat, walk, sit, sleep.
Crystal-Pyay seems to find 'sleep' worthy of giggling, but appears to have a word for it, or at least fills in both columns next to the word with her own strange characters.
Once they've gone over come, go, and Emma thinks Crystal-Pyay probably gets it she points at Crystal-Pyay. Then she says "come", and then points to the ground, and then makes as confused a face as she can possibly manage.
So, as long as Crystal-Pyay is humoring her- more vocabulary it is.
(Emma is a little bit of a language nerd. This is, when not mind-bogglingly strange and unexpected and occasionally frustrating, rather a lot of fun.)
"More mouse?" she says, when she's learned to say "more". "Mouse" was one of the original nouns. "Sleep."
Emma consults her list of "words Crystal-Pyay knows". "No know," she says carefully. "Emma no mouse. Emma sleep."
"No know," she repeats. Hmm. Does it have to be a mouse? "No mouse, yes cat, yes horse. Crystal Pyay cat not sleep?"
There is a handy reference book of various animal species she can point to, here. They do in fact have a cat- there's one in the stables that keeps the mice out (which is apparently suboptimal, at the moment)- so if Emma can find it, maybe Crystal-Pyay can use that.
Crystal-Pyay shrugs. "Horse," she says. Apparently horses are better than cats for this purpose.
In that case, Crystal-Pyay is welcome to a tour of the stables. There are only three horses, so the tour will not take very long.
Emma had not actually gotten to time words. She is now regretting this. "Horse sleep, horse sleep, horse sleep, horse no sleep," she tries as an alternative, complete with waving-forward-because-time-moves-I-
"Emma and - zero?" says Crystal-Pyay, improvising with her number words. "Emma sleep? Sleep not - bad bad bad. Sleep bad."