"My lord, surely your time is limited…"
But Michael waved off the concern. "I have plenty of time for a meal with those who've come so far to place their trust in me."
Taking his seat among the tribespeople, Michael was greeted warmly. Before him was lanlan, the traditional flatbread of the Pamir Plateau, still warm from the fire.
Ismahal demonstrated how to eat it, folding the bread around a tangy-sweet vegetable salad before taking a bite. Following suit, Michael found the dish surprisingly delicious—the saltiness balanced the bread's blandness, while the vegetables added a refreshing crunch.
After devouring nearly ten pieces, Michael and Julian leaned back, patting their full stomachs. Ismahal, puffing on a long pipe, broke the brief silence with a probing question.
"It seems your visit isn't just to check on our living conditions."
Michael met his gaze with a knowing smile. "You already know why I'm here, don't you? I've heard rumors of a White Deer residing in this place."
