The next one sings in her cage.

[i]”~please don’t don’t i’ll be good please i’ll be good don’t don’t no no no no no no~”[/i]

Her long limbs splay out in random directions, lying where they fell. Save for the twitching. Her eyes - yellow, sharp, familiar - struggle to focus on him. Her ears - big as her head - struggle to hold every sound in the Kennels. Her ribs stick out. Her expression is empty. Her notes are perfect.

“I’m here to get you out of here. I’m going to come in now, slowly.”

Dolce speaks in a soft whisper. She does not react.

Dolce turns the Master’s key. She does not react.

Dolce enters the dog’s cage. He does not stop.

“My name is Dolce. The palace is burning. I’m here to get you out of here.”

[i]”~i’m a good girl~”[/i]

“I know you are. It’s going to be okay. I’m going to unlock your chains now-”

[i]”~staying staying staying staying~”[/i]

“If you stay, you’ll burn to death. But that’s not going to happen.”

[i]”~staying staying staying staying~”[/i]

“I came here with XIII.”

She stops singing.

“Do you remember her? She’s married now. I made her a big cake for it.” He reaches into his wool, plucks out a tiny, tiny bell, and lays it on the ground near her hand. “She gave me this. I think she’d like you to have one too.”

She closes her hand around it. Holds it up to her ear. Her trembling arm shakes it for her. 

[i]”~it’s so…soft…~”[/i]

Dolce unlocks the chains. She struggles to stand, and he offers his arm. She touches his wool with just a finger, like it’ll bite her if she lowers her guard. Then she throws herself on his back, clinging for all she’s worth, burying her face and ears into an impossibly soft, rich cloud. 

Dolce takes a moment to steady her. Just a moment. And then he is off to the next one.

He crosses paths with the first one he freed. She’s got three of her siblings in tow, and heading for a fourth. Ahead, a gaggle of children are divided on whose door to unlock first. When he is done with them, they are split into two teams, with a few extra joining him; there’s a fellow with wings who might be out of reach for someone like him. No one struggles for too long before help is sent their way. No one stops and grinds all around them to a halt before he is kneeling beside them. No one, [i]no one[/i] is forgotten.

Dolce carries XVI the entire way.