At dawn, the forest was still shrouded in milky white mist, carrying the damp scent of vegetation.
Seraphilia quietly got up as the sky began to brighten.
She turned her head, gazing at Robin, who was curled up on the simple cot beside her, illuminated by the faint morning light.
Because of days of fatigue and finally feeling safe, she was sleeping very soundly.
Her smooth black hair was spread out on the makeshift pillow fashioned from clothing. Beneath her trimmed bangs, the slightly furrowed brow had finally relaxed, her breathing even and deep.
Little White had shrunk to the size of a fist, quietly nestled near Robin's neck. Its screen displayed a sleeping emoticon: (~￣▽￣)~ zZZ
A melting snow-like tenderness bloomed in Seraphilia's ice-blue eyes. She thought that this was how Robin was meant to look—peaceful, calm, undisturbed by any nightmare.
She gently tucked in the blanket that had slipped slightly, her fingertips carefully avoiding contact, lest she wake her.
Then, she rose silently, leaving the hidden clearing like a shadow melting into the morning fog.
Her destination was a small fishing town nearest to the island, reachable only by taking a small boat.
The speed and stealth of the kintoun "Little White" showed its advantages during this short voyage.
She chose to land on a secluded shore outside the town, retracting the reluctantly squirming Little White.
She pulled down her cloak's hood, ensuring her overly conspicuous silver hair and cold expression were completely concealed before stepping into the gradually awakening small town.
The early morning fishing town was brimming with vibrant life.
The salty sea breeze carried the smell of the catch from the docks, which was then mellowed by the rich scent of baking bread wafting from a street corner bakery.
Fishermen, bare-chested, shouted as they unloaded their shimmering catches. The splashing water, the cries of vendors, and the creaking collision of boats wove together into a rough yet vigorous symphony.
Seraphilia moved among them, her gaze rapidly sweeping over stalls and shops. She had long compiled a lengthy mental checklist, every item related to Robin.
Food was the first priority.
Robin was too thin; she needed to be nourished well.
She walked straight to the fish market, ignoring the cheap, common fish, and selected several of the freshest, fattest sea fish with bright eyes.
She then found the butcher shop and bought a cut of prime pork leg and several plump chicken legs.
At the vegetable stand, there were emerald green leafy vegetables, tomatoes beaded with dew, potatoes dusted with fresh soil, tender yellow corn... She took a bit of almost everything, imagining them transformed into steaming hot dishes that Robin would eat.
Seasonings couldn't be skipped either: decent quality olive oil, coarse sea salt, black pepper, several dried herbs, and she even found a small jar of butter—a luxury for commoners—and a bottle of locally produced fruit vinegar.
Passing the bakery, the warm aroma made her pause. She bought a crispy-crusted baguette and small, sweet round buns dotted with icing sugar, thinking Robin might like something sweet.
Finally, she bought a small basket of fresh eggs, a bottle of milk sealed with wax, and several brightly colored pieces of fruit.
Next were clothes.
Seraphilia entered the only clothing store in town that looked reasonably respectable.
The owner was a middle-aged woman with a kind face.
Seraphilia's gaze automatically filtered out the rough linen clothes, finally resting on several dresses made of softer fabric and in brighter colors.
She picked up a sky-blue one but felt it was too lively; she picked up a pale green one but felt it wouldn't complement Robin's quiet demeanor.
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