“Yes, but that’s okay! I’m a pixie!”, he grinned widely, “See, I said it again! I like saying it!” Whip stopped his cheery ramble when he noticed that Anton was troubled and apparently in some kind of distress. He bent and looked the unhappy young man in the face, like a curious boy would look at a turtle that had pulled its head inside of its shell.
Anton really did look pretty bad and Whip knew he had to help somehow. “Don’t be sorry. If you have to go lie down, let me help you. It’s the least I can do”, Whip offered. Closing his eyes and rubbing his hands together, he let Anton know, “Never tried this one before…” It wasn’t a minute later, though, that a wheelchair appeared behind Anton. Taking Anton by the arms, Whip lowered him to the chair and placed a blanket that appeared from thin air over his lap. “Direct me to your room, Sir, and I shall tuck you in!”, he sang softly, as he was already in motion towards the dorms.