"Heh. This one can go to that unlucky brat. It'll shut her money-owing parents up, and maybe they'll hit her less."
"This can go to the granny selling pickle candies to help her out in a pitch. She really needs to see a doctor for all her pains. I don't wanna see a day when I can't buy such tasty candies anymore..."

Bent over the rucksack, the girl meticulously counts the jewels in there, and suddenly sneezes.
"Who's missed me?"

"There you are, Cifera."
The threads wind around her back, as if hesitating where to start.

"From now on, when you're chasing the wind..."
The icy golden thread wraps around her wrists, holding her in place.

"Don't forget to look after yourself as well."

She runs, escaping far away. It's only when she turns around that she discovers the corner of her cloak that's starting to fray had already been stitched up, as if it were new.