Sunshiny hue shimmered in through the double-hung windows, dancing over her eyelids. The girl who was tossing and turning on the giant-springed bed exhaled deeply and opened her lusterless eyes. Moderately slow.
She sat up in a bit, shrinking the size of her fish eyes as they darted for the door. Satchel-mouthed, she let out a sigh, abruptly bored: Someone had been persistently knocking.
Her plucked eyebrows and ratty blond hair told a dismal story; her saturnine mood was because of what had happened the night before. With Thomas suddenly turning sadistic and reeling into the meadow, she had returned to her bedroom somewhat beaten and unable to eat. Hence, the excruciating hunger pangs had begun to kick in the instant she awoke.
Allowing her shoulders to flex with lithe, Louisa drew outward from the comfortable place: hunching her broad shoulder blades, she planted her spindly legs onto the hearth, tottering for the door.
