[ On the screen is a girl that can only be described as sickly looking, an appearance no older than six or seven. Her hair is unkept and scraggily cut, hanging over her eyes. And if someone takes time to notice, one of her eyes is visibly blind. And the girl looks so, so scared. Where she is is undeterminable-- a corner of a building that doesn't look like housing. ]

I don't like strangers, I don't. I don't. I don't want to live... next to someone I don't know...

I don't want to go back there. I don't like gods! I miss home.

I--

[ Her tone turns into a soft mumble as the feed stays playing for a few minutes with her crumpling against the wall, holding her arms around her knees and pressing her head on top. Soft whines unintelligible as they're muffled by her tattered red dress. The kid looks like she should be generously dunked face first into a drawn bath, clothes and all, as if the gods literally picked her up off the street.

In all honesty, they picked her up from school, but given the situation, it's not all that different. The next line she says with some hesitation and difficulty, as if part of her is internally spurning the idea of trusting strangers, as if that unsettles her, but she knows she needs it. ]

H... elp me.