The little lion, finally getting to relieve itself after holding it in for several days, yawned contentedly.
"Kid, haven't you realized yet?" Winters said as he walked to the washbasin to clean his hands, not even turning his head: "You don't have the ability to take care of this little guy right now. Leaving it with you will only get it killed sooner or later. It's a matter of ability, not willingness."
Although Bell was reluctant to admit it, he couldn't find the words to argue when he saw the handkerchief soaked with pale yellow liquid on the table.
"And even if you could raise it, you have no clue what to do once it's grown," Winters, having washed his hands, sat back down and nodded at the handkerchief on the table: "Wash it and return it to me tomorrow."
"Then what do you suggest we do..." Bell said, head hung low in dejection.