"Son… Do you have time? Could you spare a moment for me?"
The old man's voice was cracked—dry, but with an almost imperceptible rhythm to it. Neither fully soft nor harsh, it echoed in a strange way, leaving an unsettling trail in the ear.
For a moment, Corc couldn't grasp what he meant. He felt there was something beneath the question, something deeper—but he couldn't understand what.
When he looked into the man's eyes, he thought he saw a strange light swirling within them. Was it a circular motion? Or just a flicker?
He frowned, then blinked.
"Must've just been a trick of the eye…" he thought and shook his head slightly.
Trying to suppress the suspicion stirring inside him, he turned his attention back to the old man. His voice, as he spoke, was cautious and laced with hesitation:
"What do you mean? Do you need help? Do you want us to take you somewhere?"
