"Dressing light as always, huh, Celeste?"
"Yep!"
Celeste spun around in the corridor. She wore a martial arts robe with red stripes, a skirt, and a pair of bandages as shoes.
Tradition of the Waraker tribe to dress with the minimum for movements.
"Cute, right?"
"Subject remained prideful after stubbornness not to wear proper shoes instead."
"Oh, please. My skin is thick enough!" Celeste chuckled. "Had a good night, Uncle Demond~?"
The Witch blushed; her husband held back a chuckle.
"A child...shouldn't have too many speculations." Demond coughed twice.
"Miss Demond...we recommend honesty instead of embarrassing yourself."
"Shut it."
With a chaotic exchange, they all headed downstairs for breakfast.
"Hello, Miss Serte." The Witch pulled back a stool. "The tavern seemed desolate today."
"As usual." The bartender eyed the empty tables, then looked back at the Witch. "Menus?"
"Scrambled eggs and sausages, please."
"Same here with my wife."
