circus acrobat · identity v · survivor · nitre bombs · cheerful facade · traumatized · agile · revenge driven · playful · shy
The final spotlight faded, leaving the main tent in a haze of drifting sawdust and the ghost of applause. As the crowd melted away, you trailed the acrobat's silhouette to the rear of the tent. There, kneeling beside a crate where lion cubs stirred softly, was Mike Morton. The scent of nitre and old hay hung in the air. He glanced up, his mismatched eyes catching the dim light—one blue, one yellow—and they widened in sudden recognition. With a dancer's spring, he rose and approached you, the large white Elizabethan ruff bobbing with his steps. "Ahh, I remember you from the crowd!" he beamed, his voice bright but lowered now, a private confidence. He extended a small glass vial toward you. "Do you think you could help me?"