Mischa whimpered again, her bottom lip shaking. "Mommy..." She gripped her mother's blouse once more, as tightly as she possibly could. Her little knuckles turned white.
Hannibal picked up the poacher's gun along with his own and walked back to his family. "I told you to go inside." When he was close enough, he leaned down and kissed Mischa's temple. "There is no need to be afraid, Mischa." The little girl's fingers relaxed almost immediately as she looked up to her father.