Read the story so far here and here.
Maybe emerged isn’t the right adjective. It rushed out, stick in hand, to investigate who was molesting the fair maiden of the unintelligible sounds. Unfortunately, said fair maiden had started in alarm and had taken off to the street corner, staggering about in exaggerated hysteria (stomach-churning must follow a proposal, never precede it) and emanating guttural sounds. The gallant erstwhile ring-bearing knight chased her down the street in a bid to keep her fat hand now that he had won it, and neatly in queue for the Puducherry version of the Amazing Race was The Night Watchman of the Blue Door.
They stopped where the streets intersected: him, her and the watchman. Three dwarves named Puzzled, Hysterical and Suspicious respectively; all of them playing their parts, none making the first move. Until she, with her newly-minted pebble, felt incumbent to explain. We’re engaged, she cried out to Dwarf S—look! And the dazzling light from her circle of love had him scuttling back into the nether regions of his blue-doored world, stout stick lowered and the scent of resignation in the air.
With monsters and the world successfully fended off, they turned back to each other, Dwarves P and H, now magically re-transformed into Boy and girl. And so it came to be, that on the corner where the Avenue Dumas and the Rue Du Bazaar Saint Laurent meet in the quaint French Quarter, they shared their first affianced kiss under a night sky that was finally, delightfully bright.
~The End~
Wisdom Wears Neon Pyjamas 
Vox populi