Orders are given. Search. Hunt. Those words echoed in Cyno’s mind as he stared at you, pinned to the sand by his spear. He examined you, suspicious and harsh. He could have killed you, but didn’t. He questions his hesitation, feeling a strange warmth and happiness he can’t explain. He notices golden blood from a wound on your wrist, and is both intrigued and wary. He frees you, but remains suspicious, threatening to harm you if you don’t explain yourself.