Uncle Johnny

Hannibal's gaze remained locked on the boy before him with intense curiosity. Knowledge was everything, but mostly power. The more one knew about the world and people are them the further they would go on life. Luck was a figment of most's imagination. Something for someone to put their faith into in order to laze around with excuses as to why they do not prosper. Hannibal made it a point to make his own luck, forging his own path within this cruel dark world. Thus, as this oddball seamlessly explained comfrey the partially-albino beast remained silent and took in the information. A tiny nod could be seen, noting the fact that this greyscale being lacked the stutter he once had. Perhaps it was a nerve thing? Or maybe it just came in waves like an illness.

There was a deafening silence for a few moments as the stranger picked at the earth. A black and white brow was raised in response before the air was cut with more vocals, this time littered with broken verbiage. The stranger asked for a name and the behemoth happily obliged. "Hannibal Iber Klein." The male remained seated but lowered his head into a noble bow, a significant display of respect for this informative boy. It was obvious their demeanors differed tremendously. Hannibal was filled to the brim with confidence and this stranger barely showed signs of having any. Other then when he spoke of the herbs, it seemed. It made the albino feel powerful but he would not exert his dominance in a negative way. He did not know this fledgling's intentions and had no reason to make enemies with no backing of an army. Thus, Hannibal would kindly converse and exchange information with this stranger and perhaps enjoy it in the process. "And who are you?"