Morning crept into the cavern like an unwanted guest. Isabella blinked awake in her tent, her face slightly swollen from crying the night before. She wiped her cheek once, irritated at the reminder, and immediately remembered the reason she was sad in the first place.
Then she remembered Osiris.
Her mood crashed.
Just the memory of his stupid question, his stupid face, and his stupid existence made her blood boil again. She groaned into her pillow.
He ruined her night by breathing. He ruined her morning by existing. What a talent.
She stretched her limbs lazily, then rolled out of the bed inside her tent. Her tent was basically a miniature palace. She had a bed. A table. A tiny vanity mirror. A washing area. Shelves from her space inventory. It was clean. Cozy. Safe. And most importantly, it was Osiris free.
Glimora snuggled up beside her, stretching like a spoiled cat. Isabella picked her up and kissed the top of her tiny head. "Good morning," she whispered softly.
