Hannibal wasn't trying to look especially cute, but the greasepaint had been there and he'd put a little on because he was a child, like if Ozzy Osborn had been Peter Pan. It was over his right eye and was a short line, one long line over his eye, and two other short lines. It was a crude but still effective hand flipping the bird.
Other than that, he had all his standard dinosaur hunting equipment. A gun, another gun, a bigger gun than those two, several grenades, rope, and a bag of meat.
When he saw Kate outside of her hut, he gave a wave to her. He was glad to see she was sensibly dressed, and...
"Is it just the fact that we're both sober and you haven't done something you immediately regret with a bunch of shit from people who have left the island or do you look especially cute today?" he asked, peering a bit closer at her. "No, way, you're just naturally really fucking cute. Cuteness just all over your face and body and shit. Never mind. Ignore me, I had cake for breakfast and frosting goes right to my head."
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Other than that, he had all his standard dinosaur hunting equipment. A gun, another gun, a bigger gun than those two, several grenades, rope, and a bag of meat.
When he saw Kate outside of her hut, he gave a wave to her. He was glad to see she was sensibly dressed, and...
"Is it just the fact that we're both sober and you haven't done something you immediately regret with a bunch of shit from people who have left the island or do you look especially cute today?" he asked, peering a bit closer at her. "No, way, you're just naturally really fucking cute. Cuteness just all over your face and body and shit. Never mind. Ignore me, I had cake for breakfast and frosting goes right to my head."