Marella huffed and puffed, her footsteps crunching on the gravel as she struggled to keep up. "P-Princess… that's… enough… I… can't… run… anymore!"
Behind her, a little giggle echoed through the garden.
"Mawella~ Fwaster!" I squealed, my chubby legs carrying me faster than Marella could manage.
My golden curls bounced wildly with each step, and my tiny shoes kicked up bits of dirt as I zoomed across the grass like a hyper squirrel.
"Faster, Marewwa! Fwaster!" I chirped, my words still a little jumbled because, well, I'm almost two years old now. I can talk, run, and walk like a pro—well, a slightly clumsy pro—but words? Yeah, we're still working on that.
Marella groaned dramatically, bending over and placing her hands on her knees as she gasped for breath. "Princess… have… mercy…!"
Mercy? Pfft. Not in my vocabulary.
