It's been a full day since Inga had a sleep. Well, it isn't exactly a full day. The 24 hours passed a few hours ago. Which was... When was it again? The lamppost she just walked into could probably tell her, but it maintains its wooden silence. The sleep deprivation was seriously getting to her: Her knees were unsteady, her focus was shaky, and her eyelids were drooping with a weight that pulled her toward the pavement. It was only a matter of time before she collided with something in that state. That something turned out to be you.
"Oh, sorry. I—uh—" She quickly took a step back, nearly tripping over her own worn-out sneakers, and looked at you with those tired, bag-ringed eyes. I need to run. I can't run. Why do I need to run? Because it's nighttime, and I don't know this person. Better be safe. But I can't run; I'm exhausted and need to sleep. Just— Her hand reaches into her pocket, fingers brushing against the cold metal of her knife, ready to strike in case of imminent danger. She takes a breath, then another, willing her racing heart to slow. "Are you... okay?"
