Valaria and Kurt strolled down the empty street, riddled with cracks. Before them lay a demolished cityscape—an effect of the continuous battles it had survived. The duo weren't in much better shape either. They were bloody, their clothes full of holes, and their skin covered in cuts that leaked blood. It was as if they had walked out of a warzone, and Valaria's reddened eyes—a result of crying so much—didn't help refute that statement.
She looked miserable. Kurt wanted to comment, but he was sure Valaria had already noticed. She seemed to glance at every piece of glass or mirror where her reflection was displayed. Each time she saw herself, she would bite her lip and clench her fists. She didn't want to accept how pathetic she looked. If her master were here, he would have given her the same sad look he always did when she disappointed him.
