The next morning, as dawn was just beginning to break, Betty, who was sound asleep on the large bed draped with a grey-white soft blanket, suddenly opened her eyes.
Something was amiss. This wasn't the place she knew.
Those pitch-black eyes, sharp as a hawk's, swiftly scanned the unfamiliar surroundings as she rolled over and grabbed the giant sword by the bed.
Her body slightly bent, she surveyed the room with the wariness of a cheetah.
But then, as if remembering something, the tension in her face eased, and she dropped the giant sword back onto the floor, listlessly lying down on the bed again.
Her long legs, visible below the leather shorts, were particularly enticing against the grey-white blanket.
The only pity was that the flat landscape beneath her upper body's armor lessened the allure considerably.
"Sister Betty, what's wrong?"
