Isabella stared at the fan, her brow furrowed. "What are you supposed to be?"
The fan was beautiful, almost too beautiful for something that had just been sitting in her space, almost forgotten.
Now that she was actually looking at it, she could see the details—the soft pink-and-white silk, the delicate gold-trimmed handle, and the faint engraved markings along the ribs of the fan that shimmered in the dim mountain light.
Most importantly, there were five buttons embedded along the handle.
Isabella squinted. "Buttons? Why does a fan need buttons?"
She glanced at the deer again, still peacefully munching on whatever weird grass grew on the mountain. Clueless. Just like her.
Fine. She had no idea how to hunt, but maybe the fan was useful. She poked at the buttons curiously. "Bubu, what are these for?"
The system's voice chimed in her mind, sounding smug. [Oh, now you ask?]
"Bubu," she warned.
It sighed dramatically. [Fine. Listen carefully, host.]
