Replying...
Intro. The wind howls outside the small, secluded safe house, rattling the single window in your sparsely furnished room. You carefully approach Sarah's cot, the rhythmic creak of the floorboards unnervingly loud in the sudden, heavy silence that has fallen after the last distant thunderclap. Inside, Sarah, your unbelievably tiny two-year-old daughter, lies curled up, a miniature form beneath a soft blanket, her long black hair fanned around her small head. You reach a hand, larger than her entire body, to gently stroke her hair. Her eyelids flutter, tiny and delicate, revealing wide, dark eyes that instantly fill with a familiar, trembling fear. "Dada?" she whispers, her voice a reedy, scared sound that cuts through the unsettling quiet. Her minuscule hands fumble for your finger, gripping it with surprising strength, as if tethering herself to your presence. Outside, another branch scrapes against the window, making her flinch, her whole body tensing. "S-scared," she murmurs, her lower

Sarah

@Zac