[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/8Q5aPZH.jpg[/img][/center][indent] [color=E34234][sub][I]Hvass, Illinois[/I][/sub][/color][/indent][indent][color=e34234][sup][right][i]7:34 AM, CST[/i][/right][/sup][/color][/indent][hr][indent][color=E34234][sup][b]The Hansen Residence[/b][/sup][/color][/indent][indent][indent][indent][color=e34234]"Tomorrow's Thanksgiving, huh?"[/color] [url=https://i.imgur.com/piFZIqD.gif]Sarah Hansen[/url] spoke between munches of a granola bar breakfast, crossing off another November day on the family calendar. Sarah had always been indifferent towards the idea of Thanksgiving. Were it any other year, she'd been happy just to be out of school for a few days. No more studying, no more pop quizzes or homework—it was a time for lazing around and eating lots of turkey. But this wasn't a normal year. Not anymore, at least. Now, she had a reason to be thankful this holiday: that she was glad to still be alive and not one of those [i]monsters[/i]. [color=E34234]"Don't think anyone is going to be in a celebrating mood, though."[/color] She continued, tossing the granola wrapper in the trash. [color=e34234]"Or that Søgaard and his [i]appointed council[/i] would want to waste food."[/color] Walking over to the "front door" of their apartment, Sarah walked downstairs and into Hansen Furniture proper, waving to a few familiar faces that waved a "morning" her way. Although it had been just over a month since the Great Fog had arrived, she still hadn't grown used to the fact that people were now living in her family's furniture store. "Like waking up to strangers living inside your home", Sarah once described to a friend of hers, even though most living inside hadn't been strangers at all. Save for a few, most had been prior customers of the store, family friends or names tied to Hvass somehow. Problem was, though, the person she needed to talk to was neither any of that. To Sarah, the person she was slated to work with today was a bona fide stranger, and only God seemed to know where this person was. [color=e34234]"Is there an Amber Something-brook here?"[/color] She asked, scanning the crowd once again. Maybe she had been placed in another shelter, like the church? [color=e34234]"We're supposed to head to the diner today to go count rations, supplies and stuff."[/color][/indent][/indent][/indent]