Dolly and the doll

As the figure went to disappear through the gate, Dolly, watching from behind a bush, gasped. She could see what he held, she thought, and despite her fear at being discovered, had followed him to find his lair and report him. She was no hero but she was a budding detective.

He walked like an automaton, stiffly. His pointed hat suggested he was a pixie but his features told her otherwise. He had a grainy complexion and a nose of inordinate length. Was he a child-catcher? In his arms, he held a small girl with long golden hair. It was trailing behind the puppet-like figure, swaying with each jerk. It was macabre and Dolly had shivered delightedly with fear and anticipation at his antics and how she would be the one to stop them.

Her gasp had been audible, she thought, to all but her.

But he had heard her. And now he was turning.

"Who's there?" His voice was strangely high-pitched and he sounded anxious.

Dolly remained very still. She had not seen the front of him but now she could clearly see that it was a doll he was holding and that he did not have skin but was actually made of wood.

She gasped again. She knew who it was!

The figure fled, through the door, fright driving him.

"You can't be seen," the mage had said, "Or the spell will be broken and you'll be alone forever."

Holding the doll, Pinocchio hoped he was wrong.