Vesta squints harshly against the sunlight, raising a hand to shield her eyes.

She frowns up at the figure offering her a hand, staring at it for a long moment. Eventually, she sighs and takes it, allowing the knight to pull her to her feet.

Once upright, she looks down at her own hands, turning them over slowly as she studies them. After a moment, she lets out another deep, weary sigh.

“...No.”

Her gaze drifts over herself, the clothes hanging loosely from her frame, her bare feet, and disheveled hair spilling around her shoulders. She shakes her head, pressing her lips into a thin line.

Then, she turns on her heel.

“...Thanks,” she mutters over her shoulder.

Vesta starts walking, her arms folded tightly across her chest.

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