He reached into his satchel. Three poisons—poison black as night, green berries glimmering faintly, and lotus extract like liquid moonlight—materialized in his hands. Even the faintest wisp of their scent made the healer's stomach knot.
"You… you brought these here? Into the house?" the healer whispered, voice cracking. "One drop of that poison alone could wipe out the tribe… and all three together?" His back pressed against the wall, fear curling like fire through his veins.
Cutie didn't flinch. Every movement was calm, controlled, precise—but charged with a pulse of urgency that made the air itself vibrate. The faint shimmer of the poisons caught the light, making them seem alive, waiting and then cutie wore a leather gloves in his hands.
