Little Rascal sat on a wooden crate in a daze, and watched as the White Blade Guards around her busily tended to their wounds, changed, discussed, and prepared for departure.
Every single one of them had been respectful to her. Even when they were in a rush, they did not forget to clear a spot for her to rest, promising her clean water and food.
She was drowsy.
But like an alarm, the fear and anxiety that intruded her mind startled her awake as she was close to falling asleep each time.
It made her feel as though she was in between a dream and reality.
'But this is how it is, isn't it?' Little Rascal lowered her head, asking herself bitterly.
'Was everything I've experienced since last night not a nightmare?
'But I…'
Little Rascal sniffled, touching her petite face, which had been wiped clean.
She sat on the wooden crate in loneliness, watching people come and go.
