The fisherman's chuckle startled the Young Lion.
Pistri Hamlet stopped in his tracks, eyeing the fisherman with caution—draped in a black robe, his attire obscured, yet the pale hands, clean face, and those seemingly hand-stitched shoes bespoke a notable origin.
Speculating inwardly, Pistri's gaze returned to the fisherman's face.
Long eyebrows, a pronounced nose, coupled with bright black pupils, which appeared both infinitely affectionate and as clear and innocent as a child's eyes, especially with the slight curve at the corners of his mouth, intensifying this impression. That faint smile naturally drew others' eyes.
Very charming.
Especially that smile, reminding Pistri of his own father.
Composed, and completely in control.
Also, beyond doubt!
Hiss!
Wait!
Father?!
As these thoughts raced through his mind, the Young Lion gasped.
