But in the forest at the cold hour of dawn, sat the poor god, with rosy cheeks and with a smiling mouth, upon her cardboard mat--frozen to death on the last evening of the old year. Stiff and stark sat the god there with her weird t-shirt, which had been burnt. "She wanted to warm herself," people said. No one had the slightest suspicion of what beautiful things she had seen; no one even dreamed of the splendor in which, with her tacky t-shirt patron she had entered on the joys of a new year.
It may didn't go as she planned, but her t-shirt still warmed shion.
*crackle*I'm hungry~…My stomach is empty~…*shiver*It's cold~
It's dark~*tremble**crackle*I am a passing-by goddess of clothes
pun on 'fuku', either clothes or good fortune in this caseUnfortunately I have no money or food on hand, but…Stave off the cold tonight with this*shiver**tremble*