Leon was strolling through the streets of the city of Hemsburg with an amused expression on his face, his steps slow even though he had two other rats to find. He leisurely walked.
But suddenly, his head snapped toward a street artist. She stood poised with a brush in hand, glasses perched low on her nose, dressed in formal attire marred by blotches of ink and smudges of color.
The faint scent of linseed oil and dried paint hung around her like a subtle aura. Her calm expression never wavered as her gaze moved deliberately across his form, brush tip twitching slightly—measuring him, dissecting him, seeing him not as a man but as a living canvas.
It stirred Leon's curiosity, enough for him to pause and step closer.
He approached the female artist, and his voice sounded in her ear.
"Are you trying to draw me? I've seen you sizing me up and staring at me blatantly."
She bridged her glasses with a single finger, her movement precise, and answered him—voice low, yet unwavering.
