The twilight of dawn passed over the window eaves of the porthole, illuminating the sleeping side face of the lamb.
Seems to be aware of the touch of the light, she moved her long eyelashes, stretched out her small hands lying on the frozen sleeping compartment, and unconsciously yawned.
"Are you awake?"
A soft voice came from my ear.
"Hmm." She responded subconsciously, rubbed her sleepy eyes and stared at the porthole.
The sky is a bright red, and the rising sun is floating above the sea of clouds, spreading soft light through the thin atmosphere.
It's already light?
Just