☀️ Arselia and Akonia

Unsuccessfully trying to hold onto the rapidly decaying toy, which slipped through her fingers like molten metal, as if it were a materialized metaphor for entropy, the winds, and the relentless sands of time, with its bulging, burst eyeballs, finally uttering its last, distorted mechanical cry, which faded not gradually, but rather abruptly and with a grating sound, Ayano secretly sheds an unwanted tear onto the plastic, metal, and fabric mess that remained in her trembling hands. Having experienced a journey to the coven, it at least found its end in its homeland, although this was only a small consolation.
Sniffling and wiping her eyes, she returned to the bench.