Along the empty, flowered fields, a young girl with pink hair ran as fast as she could, hoping to get home on time for breakfast.
“I hope that nobody noticed. Dad’ll go nuts if he finds out I’m late again.”
After 10 solid minutes of exhausted speed-walking, the girl finally reached a familiar doorstep, walked to the door, and panted like mad.
“I can’t believe I actually made it.”
When she opened the door, she saw another familiar sight: a large brown-skinned man with a clean-shaven face, bald head, and a grimace, while wearing a dirty apron, probably covered with blood, a polo shirt underneath and tan worker pants. This was the girl’s father, and he was none too pleased.
“Kendra Farron, where have you been?”
“I was just, uh, taking a walk around the town.”
The man raised an eyebrow.
“Around the town? At 11 in the night?”
“Y-yeah! I was hoping to stop by Mr. Stuart’s farm so that he could get