I Hate the Flea
Whether it was the natural nature of the creature called Santa Flea, or because it had been buried underground for a long time, or maybe because it had used too much mana—
It had already been three days.
Once it fell asleep, it did not wake up.
It did not even show any sign of wanting to wake up.
It wasn’t sick or in pain. The Santa Flea was still sleeping well, making strange breathing sounds.
“Krrr… krrr…”
Its chest rose and fell steadily, and its expression was peaceful.
It was simply… sleeping.
Thinking this was a good chance to teach sewing, Liz sat with Dorothy and had her make things for the Santa Flea.
Dorothy’s first creation was a hat.
She cut a small piece of cloth and made a tiny triangular Santa hat.
Because the Santa Flea was so small, just one stitch was…
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