But when Oldes's pale green eyes met little Erin's, the gentle smile on the old man's face gradually faded.
His brow furrowed slightly as he carefully sized up little Erin, deep in thought, as if sensing something complex and troublesome.
Ithilien keenly noticed the change in Oldes's expression. She gestured for Anvil to take little Erin aside to play, or to check on the banquet preparations.
Anvil froze, his mood turning somber as he glanced at Oldes's solemn expression. Still, he nodded, squatting down to pick up little Erin.
"Come on, let's go see what good food they have."
Little Erin obediently wrapped her arms around Anvil's neck, but she couldn't help but steal curious glances at Oldes.
Anvil left with little Erin, but a deep worry lingered in his eyes.
Ithilien watched them go until the father and daughter's figures disappeared behind the yard of the mushroom house, only then turning to face Oldes.
"Wise Man Oldes, how… how bad is it?"
