Sora’s eyes cracked open; she knew it was day because her legs had been warmed by the sun. She sat up, not sure where she was. She reached out with her hand, and her wrist collided with her nightstand.

She stood up; she was in her room. Now sure about her whereabouts, Sora walked slowly towards the door, Sugar purring around her feet. She stretched out again, and this time her palm met Noah’s wet nose.

She smiled in pleasure and bent down to stroke his large bronze head.
“Kitchen,” she told Noah, and held onto his collar. Noah padded obediently to the kitchen, careful that Sora didn’t crash into anything on the way.

She softly grasped a chair and sat down. Her foster mother appeared in a few minutes, and soon Sora was enjoying a plate of pancakes.

If Sora could see, she would have beheld the sight of Noah greedily staring at her steaming breakfast.

She didn’t need to see, though. She patted Noah’s head.
“Don’t worry. Your breakfast will be coming soon,” she laughed.