The spring breeze blew gently, sweeping the leaves of the silver willow trees in Nocture's city park. Sylvia was still sitting back on the wooden bench, her eyes half-closed behind the shadow of her dull cloak's hood. The tension that usually clung to a ruler's existence had evaporated along with the warmth of the afternoon sun.
Suddenly, a small rattan ball rolled slowly and bumped into the tip of Sylvia's leather boot.
Sylvia opened her eyes, staring at the neatly woven rattan ball. Shortly after, the sound of hurried little footsteps could be heard. A little girl from the wolf Beastmen race with erect furry gray ears and a tail swinging in panic ran up to her. The little girl's clothes were simple but clean and intact, far from the ragged appearance of street children in the apocalyptic era.
"I-I'm sorry, Miss!" said the little girl breathlessly, bowing her head deeply. "I kicked it too hard. Did the ball hit your foot?"
