"M-master, what do we do…?" rainbow tears went down her face—standing no taller than a table, gripping a wand made out of wood.
A faulty rack of dumbbells scattered across the floor; blood trailing in a small river, from a ginger woman dressed in red…
"Nothing Asobi, nothing. Forget you saw anything, shut up and I'll deal with this. We can always find more talent. Stop crying girl, nothing happened. You understand? Nothing happened!" Zayexiwovu shook her.
Asobi froze in place, her arms as stiff as wood, "Y-yes… I understand…" she gulped.
Zayexiwovu sighed, "Hey, look behind you, it's a butterfly," he pointed. Asobi turned teary-eyed; an illusory white butterfly, she conjured by instinct just as he told.
"Now, why don't you go after it and play with it for a bit," he pushed her forward. Asobi walked after it, mouth still agape. Zayexiwovu shook his head, "Need to make sure she's kept in check…"
