So this is it. I'm going to die.

Cassandra stared up at the enormous creature before her, leaning its considerable bulk downward and exposing its sharp and dangerous teeth.

I am six years old and I am going to die, either when this predatory beast attempts to devour me, or when it inevitably leans too far forward and crushes me under its tumid bulk.

She could see its mouth moving, but the adrenaline coursing through her tiny frame seemed to slow things down to the point that its speech was unintelligible. Perhaps it was snarling, roaring even.

I had always throught that I would face death with more fear than this. That I would scream and plead for my life. And yet here I am, surrounded by an unmistakable calm, a sense of peace. Also my vocabulary seems to have grown by leaps and bounds. Perhaps this is why they call this place the most magical place on this fragile, beautiful Earth.

Renard de Fleureaux grinned at the little girl as he leaned in. "I'll have that order ready for you in a jiffy," he replied, smiling broadly before straightening back up. He gave her parents a similar grin before turning and lumbering back toward the kitchens. "And have a magical day!"

Wow, he thought as he squeezed his way between the tables. I could really see that kid's eyes widening with delight. I'll bet she loves it here with all these living huggable cartoons!