gpt
Garfiel:  “…Tch.” The first thing he felt when he awoke was irritation toward the hollow, empty feeling inside his chest. Clicking his tongue, he sat up, violently clawing at the short, blond hair on his head. He was not the sort to wake up badly. But the nightmare had been bad. This, and everything else, was doubtlessly the fault of those uninvited guests who had disturbed the peace of the Sanctuary.
human
Shima:  “Young Gar, are you awake?” Then, as he sat cross-legged on the bedding with a curled back and a foul mood, a familiar voice addressed him. When he turned, she was visible at the back of the small, crude cabin and was wearing a white poncho.
gpt
Garfiel:  Garfiel, his cheeks twisting at the sight of her, slowly rose from the bed. “Sorry, dozed off there. Nothin’ happened while I was asleep?”
human
Shima:  “You worry too much over a few short hours. You’ll lose your hair at an early age at this rate.”
gpt
Garfiel:  “…I ain’t the type to strain or get too tense or nothin’, but this is rattlin’ even me, old hag.