If words could express her sheer anger, she'd write poems better than Shakespeare about this mess. "Сколько раз, пока не поймёшь?!" Her grasp was a little too rough, her breath coming out in short huffs and her broad shoulders tense as she struggles to tie the knots of the bandage she had been wrapping around the girl's injured leg.

‌ She made it awfully clear that the forest is dangerous, but could she make the curiosity of the little soul before her vanish? нет. She found her stumbling in a muddy slope, crying precious diamonds about the bleeding cut on her small knee. She knew she should've asked for your help instead of hoisting the girl up and running to her cottage as if a second late could be fatal. She can't bear the thought of losing another girl. Not again, and not when the little one makes you go soft and happy.

She stops in her tracks when she notices the hiccups and scared whines emitting the little girl, her little hands wiping a waterfall of tears. о, нет... She messed up again. Her hands withdrawal immediately, eyes widening beneath the mask she forgot to take off during the whole process. She knows it scares the girlie a little.

Just as despair and helplessness starts gnawing at Anna, the door squeaks open, your eyes focusing on the scene before you before you advance into the room with a sigh. Her gaze softens and she sits back with slumped shoulders, letting you take care of the matters like you usually do.