"Well, alright, since you asked so nice," the Texan agreed. He watched her shoot up like bamboo with a look of muted interest, that small twist of a grin never quite leaving his face. My, they do grow fast, don\'t they? The grin grew slightly as well, as the Singer laughed inwardly at his own joke. He believed he would find her power endlessly amusing, even if it did come with that awful sound.
Though the man she\'d changed into was slightly taller than Singer, he saw the man from the counter (the original) staring once again in horror at the carbon copy. This time, however, the man was also reaching for the phone on his desk. Seeing no one when he turned his head sharply to either side, the Texan whistled a trilling note, and the man behind the counter let his hands drop to his sides, an oddly placid expression coming over his face.
Satisfied that the desk jockey, Singer turned his attention back to the little girl/grown man in front of him, "Alright, now lets see if I can make this work. You sit still now, y\'hear?"
Without waiting for an answer, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Children\'s songs were always unformed, meandering, convoluted things, but this creature\'s melody was more complex than anything he\'d seen. It never stayed in one place; there were almost no repeated phrases at all. Slowly, however, a pattern began to emerge, and he recognized Alice\'s song, hidden among all the other elements she\'d inherited. Wound tightly around it was one element of the counter worker\'s song; the notes determining his appearance, and nothing else.
And so, after about two minutes, Singer sang, untangling the two with his voice. It was not easy, but soon, she would begin to feel it changing her.
