After a while of trekking at high speed through dense woods and rocky cliffs,
With a sprained leg and deep flesh wounds, that had already begun to heal themselves, by the same miracle as usual,
She was finally able to collapse on her hands and knees, tearing a long piece of cloth from the delicate, white dress she wore accompanied by a nearly transparent overcoat of some light, very warm fabric. She tied the piece on a large knife-wound and tightened it to the point that saran found it satisfactory. The dress had been hand-made, not for herself…but for a girl whose mother had been robbed.
Her hopes sank, there was little chance of returning it now, that would just be an insult to both the girl, and her mother. It was better for them to think that some girl who'd deserved such a dress had it somewhere in a castle or mansion, where it would've been well taken care of. The damage was already done.
The rain, mud, and jagged rocks had nearly torn it to shreds in only two days of travel. There was no way that she could go undetected like this, wearing something so fine… even though it was nearly destroyed, it still exuded an unnaturally powerful light—even in this bright morning sun.
Saran found a large, shady tree and rested against it. After ten years…she had finally escaped her own personal hell. When she closed her eyes, nightmarish images and gruff, drunk voices came to her as though the men that the voices belonged to were suddenly there, right next to her. But no matter how tired she was, it just wasn't worth it to relive those nightmares over again, like she did each time the thought of sleep struck her.
As a result, she looked fairly pale, weak from both lack of sleep, which also
Had resulted in heavy bags beneath her eyes, and from lack of proper clothes, and regular nourishment.
Saran fought it, with all of her strength. The blackness that was coming fast at her was inevitable. Saran was too terrified to scream.