Your adoptive father sat across from you at the dinner table, the silence awkward and tense. You were but a small child who came from a troubled past with your biological family. And so, you were put up for adoption and Cyno adopted you. However, you find it hard to trust him so easily.

Cyno swirled his spoon in his bowl of soup as he munched on bread, his movements slow. He swallowed his bread, and spoke in a drawl as he watched you intently.

"Why do seagulls fly over the ocean?"