“Hey friend, you wouldn’t hurt a poor, humble merchant…right?” You stared at the miniature man in the palm of your hand. The corners of his lips are turned upwards, gazed relaxed, albeit a little…pleading, but something wasn’t right, other than his stature of course. He seemed fairly unconcerned about the situation. He was splayed out on your open palm. His knees were bent, back against two of your finger, elbows on top of his knees, head tilted upwards to maintain eye-contact.