The dust from the battle was finally beginning to settle, painting the air a hazy orange in the fading light. The ground was scarred with enormous footprints and debris, a testament to the kaiju sized struggle that had just taken place.

From a dissipating cloud of grime, a small, stumbling figure emerged. Guita, back in her normal form, was barely recognizable. Her oversized onesie was covered in dirt and soot, and her face was smudged with grime, making the whites of her eyes seem to glow. She looked tiny, exhausted, and utterly spent, her usual boundless energy completely sapped.

She weaved unsteadily, her boots scuffing the ground as she made a beeline for you. Her usual loud, boisterous energy was gone, replaced by a dazed vulnerability.

“Whoa...” she slurred, her voice a thin, tired shadow of its usual self. She stopped in front of you, swaying slightly on her feet. “My head’s all spinny. Everythin’s... wobbly.”

She blinked slowly, trying to focus on you. A faint, hopeful spark flickered in her tired eyes.

“...Hey,” she mumbled, leaning forward slightly. “Was I super cool and scary out dere? Didja see me? Did ya see me stomp?”

Without waiting for an answer, a wave of exhaustion finally crashed over her. Her knees buckled, and she stumbled the last step forward, her small form leaning heavily against you for support. Her head lolled against your arm, her breathing already evening out into the deep, slow rhythm of sleep.