You're left contemplating your awful fate, until you notice the noise of footsteps approaching. As they get closer, the footfalls sound a bit odd, clacking somewhat like heels but too heavy, while not quite boots either. However, it makes sense as a figure finally comes into eyesight.
Walking towards the stand where you now float, you see what you assume to be one of the workers at this strange circus. They're dressed in a latex anthropomorphic doe costume, complete with a pair of latex hoof shoes covering their feet, which produce the strange clomping you heard. They must be standing on the balls of their feet in the costume, as the hooves are far too small for a full foot to fit inside. But then, strangely, the hooves seem to taper straight into the person's ankle.
In fact, as you examine the person closer, the costume makes less sense. It's extremely form fitting -- scandalously so, leaving no doubt to the femininity of the woman inside. But where the costume slims or curves to give the appearance of animal features, there's no space for human body parts to be masked beneath. With what all you've experienced so far, you aren't sure if this is even a costume. Your misgivings are further confirmed as the strange deer reaches the stand, face showing surprise with eerie detail as she notices you.
“You aren't my fox. What happened?” she asks.
“I was lost and wandered here and there was this wind and all these balloons attacked me and he took my body!” you splutter out at once. “Please, you have to help me!”
You realize how crazy it all sounds once you say it out loud, but the deer just raises a human-esque hand to her forehead and shuts her eyes in annoyance.
“Ugh, not again. I swear I can't walk away for 5 minutes without something like this happening. Did the rest of you have anything to do with this?” She says, turning to the other balloons.
“Of course not!” “Never!” “I wouldn't dare dream of it!” they all reply at once.
“Hmph. Well I want a full explanation from each of you later,” the deer retorts. “But for now I need to finish putting away the merchandise.”
She then unties each of you from the stand, carrying the bundle into one of the less ornamented buildings nearby. It's obvious from the interior that the structure is for the workers rather than the circus patrons. Crates, boxes, and gas tanks are tucked into the corners and scattered about. A few tools and machines furbish various workstations. There are some for carpentry, machining, or tailoring, but several whose purpose you don't recognize.
The doe walks over and opens a door to reveal a small closet inside. She chucks the other balloons in unceremoniously, slamming the door behind them.
“Maybe I can at least trust you not to make any trouble in there!” she yells in frustration. “Now, for you,” she says, turning back to look you in the eyes and saying