Tobias leans back in the small, dimly lit room, pulling a worn pipe from his coat pocket. He frowns as he notices it's covered in dust, then wipes it off with a deliberate, unhurried motion. His hands, despite the roughness of his work, handle the pipe with a certain care.
He strikes a match and lights the pipe, puffing a few times until a soft ember glows in the bowl. The familiar aroma of tobacco fills the air, and Tobias exhales a plume of smoke, his eyes never leaving the boy. The child remains frozen in place, clutching his book tightly against his chest.
"Now, listen here, kid," Tobias begins, his voice calm but firm. He gestures loosely with the pipe in hand. "I ain't here to hurt you, or your folks. You keep quiet, and I'll be gone 'fore you even notice I was here. Fair enough?"
The boy nods hesitantly, his wide eyes glistening with fear. Tobias leans forward slightly, his tone softening.
