Unbeknownst to the others, a small, skinny girl skipped down the street on her own with sickly golden eyes. She hummed under her breath as her clean white shoes clicked across the metal street ways, blue light from the glass walls distorted and reflected onto her white dress. She pressed her nose to the aforementioned confectionery store, gasping in delight with all of the sweets lined upon the shelves. She checked her pockets before realizing that she has no money to pay for the sweets themselves, and went to glance up at the store window again before catching sight of her own reflection.

There are moments, it is said, when a Little Sister comprehends her situation. When a little sister briefly becomes self-aware of what she is, how she came to be, and what it is she's doing. Most reported cases of this show the little girls screaming and crying, unable to come to terms with their own monstrous forms. So why was it, perhaps, that Poppy stroked the glass, fingertips running across the golden eyes and the sickly glow and the pale skin as if she wasn't really what she saw in the mirror? Who would truly be able to figure out what it is that a Little Sister can really see when she looks at her own image? Poppy was not scared of what faced her, not in the slightest. After all, it is in the nature of the Hartwell family to be quite brave about these situations.

Of course, years of mental conditioning weren't going to be shrugged away so easily. The sounds of footsteps across the pavement tore her gaze from her own visage, and like a flooded damn, all of the delusional images flooded back into view in her own mind, and she was content again, forgetting what it was her own face looked like.

Poppy stared in wonder at the Knights of Songbird, hidden from view by her quick climbing and hiding behind one of the shop signs like some sort of rabid animal. Their clothes were so outlandish and beautiful, Poppy was reminded of fancy dress parties playing pretend, rag-time dress-ups with her "Daddy" and using her ADAM syringe like a Tommy gun, pretending to be a mafia leader. These people piqued her curiosity, so when they entered a clothes store Poppy slipped from her hiding spot and peered into the window.

She watched with interest as they looked through the racks of clothes, jealous of them. How she wished to have something else to wear than endless rows of white uniforms! For a moment, her eyes lingered on Daniel. His blood was visible under his shirt, and her stomach rumbled. She licked her lips impatiently, tearing her eyes away from the sight. With a quick shoulder-shrug, she had slipped her ADAM syringe into her hands.

[i]"Awwwh, now I'm hungry. I think there's an angel nearby, Mr B...Mr B? Oh, okay then, I guess I'm on my own for now!"[/i] chimed Poppy, looking around for her "Daddy" with only a minute amount of disappointment. She followed her nose to a reeking corpse, which appeared to have been stabbed through the chest by a frighteningly massive rivet. The body was relatively fresh, and Poppy knelt down in the pool of congealing blood, plunging the syringe into the stomach of the splicer corpse.

[i]"Rosie made you sleep, Angel? I never get to see her often, 'cause Daddy doesn't like me playing with Rosie. I bet Rosie is off doing some work outside, though, so I'll take the shinies out of your belly on my own for now."[/i] cooed Poppy, watching the bright red ADAM-infused blood dribble into the syringe.