Tossing her lollipop stick at the door, Brandy was this close to completely nodding off when heavy, alarmed footsteps exited the room across from hers. Knowing it wasn't Morana (bare feet made a different sound on the floors), one of the redhead's eyes opened. She was faced with a difficult decision.
Lounge and lavishly sleep as others frantically snuffed a fire? Or follow and torment her favorite pal? Hmm, decisions, decisions...
Yawning, Brandy finally climbed out of bed, slid into her slippers, and went into the bathroom, putting her blue colored contacts back in. Then she got into character.
Brandy was a normal human girl. And normal human girls cried. Sal herself hadn't cried since before she could remember. But sacrifices had been made. Curling a fist, Brandy slammed her hand against the lance wound in her shoulder, and focused every single ounce of her energy and attention on the pain this action caused. She did it again, and again, until her concentration broke and tears were running down her cheeks.
She didn't even bother looking at herself in the mirror, because if she did, there was something else that was sure to break. Something along the lines of Sal's sanity. The redhead took off, sprinting down the stairs and after Alessa, convincingly sobbing as she found the brunette. She grabbed her from behind, dug her chin into her shoulder, and just cried.
"I'm s-s-s-so scared of the f...fire, Alessa!" She wailed.