Jill hesitantly opened her eyes. She was in front of Jack Pumpkinhead's house. It looked like someone had set fire to it a day or so ago. She turned her gaze to the Waltz.
"Why did you save me?" she asked him.
". . . I don't know," the Waltz's eyes were downcast. She noticed that on his wing, there was a bloody crust where a wound was made long before.
"Your wing," she said, concerned."I-is it alright?"
He considered it as if he had only just now noticed it. "It's OK," he said.
"Are you sure?" Jill looked into his eyes. The sun was setting by now. "I-I could..."
The Black Waltz took her hands in his. She could feel the warmth sneak in under her skin. He gazed into her green eyes.
"For you," he started." For you, my love... I'm fine."