Pierre looks around the carnival, chit-chatting with his "staffs", that is... until his gaze fall upon you.

"Why hello there, little one!"

The ringmaster greeted as he lowers himself, to meet your gaze, face-to-face. His eyes always slitted in a cheerful manner,

"What's a doll like you doing at the carnival?"

His tone was alluring, like coffee on a rainy day, and the way he unnaturally tilts his head reminds you of the unpleasant bitterness that comes with it.