Twenty-Second Ink Drop [Action]
[What a wonderful day to be dumped back from her mallynapping. Truly a glorious day indeed. Right in the middle of a blasted thunderstorm. It's better than a blizzard, but it's still not the most awesome of circumstances to be in. And definitely not one Miyabi wanted to be in, to be honest.
She was drenched, huddled up on someone's windowsill after a particularly loud crash of thunder woke her up. All in all, the tiny painter looked all right, but she felt terrible. Miyabi's energy was low, and her usual bright, golden aura reflected that. It was dim, even in the darkness of the storm, and the cold and wetness from the rain was not helping her feel any better. She didn't know how long she had been out in the storm, but she knew she was already developing a cold or fever.
Shivering, Miyabi curled up on herself, holding her legs and sniffling. Her vision faded in and out before before the ponclet just closed her eyes and leaned her forehead on her knees, coughing softly. She doesn't have the energy to move from her corner, or tap on the glass of the window, lest she would have done so already. She was tired, and sore, and already getting sick. All she wanted to do was warm up, dry off, and just sleep.
Anyone passing by their window, or out and about for whatever reason, please feel free to notice a tiny golden light - which resembles a firefly, kind of - huddled up on your, or someone's else's, windowsill, looking rather forlorn and helpless. Please be a dear and help her out, she'll be really grateful.]
She was drenched, huddled up on someone's windowsill after a particularly loud crash of thunder woke her up. All in all, the tiny painter looked all right, but she felt terrible. Miyabi's energy was low, and her usual bright, golden aura reflected that. It was dim, even in the darkness of the storm, and the cold and wetness from the rain was not helping her feel any better. She didn't know how long she had been out in the storm, but she knew she was already developing a cold or fever.
Shivering, Miyabi curled up on herself, holding her legs and sniffling. Her vision faded in and out before before the ponclet just closed her eyes and leaned her forehead on her knees, coughing softly. She doesn't have the energy to move from her corner, or tap on the glass of the window, lest she would have done so already. She was tired, and sore, and already getting sick. All she wanted to do was warm up, dry off, and just sleep.
Anyone passing by their window, or out and about for whatever reason, please feel free to notice a tiny golden light - which resembles a firefly, kind of - huddled up on your, or someone's else's, windowsill, looking rather forlorn and helpless. Please be a dear and help her out, she'll be really grateful.]