Several months later, the Garden of Eden, early morning.
Aile, as the owner, hunched stealthily, hugging the wall, and slipped step by step towards the door.
However, as soon as she approached the entrance, a crisp yet authoritative voice came from behind:
"Stop!"
Aile's body stiffened, and she turned around helplessly.
In the hazy morning mist, a small figure less than one meter forty tall, with a pair of emerald green earth-like touch atop her head, stood with her chest out, hands on hips. Her youthful face exuded a demeanor inconsistent with her age, and her eyes, like crimson stars, examined the "fugitive" before her:
"Trying to run away again?"
"Couldn't sleep, so I got up to wander around."
Aile answered with a light cough, lowered her head, her eyes flickering, somewhat reluctant to meet the small figure's gaze.
