"Saviors, huh..."
The Old Grandmother chewed on the weight of the word.
She revealed a gentle smile: "Now that's something I truly did not foresee."
"What's so unforeseen about it?"
Annan cracked a joke: "Our talents, perhaps."
"It's Skotti's mercy."
The Old Grandmother gave Annan an answer that was more or less expected: "By any measure, her actions hardly qualify as kind.
"Her temperament is capricious, shifting with the randomness of her age, which transforms daily as if the world itself were being upended.
"Even as the most harmless of young girls, she'll engage in acts of what can only be described as 'innocently cruel,' such as gleefully tearing off the wings of a butterfly. And as an old woman, though her mindset grows steadier and her actions more conservative, her relentless pursuit of 'what's interesting' always brims with enthusiasm, which leaves me perpetually unable to trust her.
