Pendragon's whisker had fallen off.
Arthur was filled with joy—according to Amanda, a cat's whiskers would be replaced every six months, naturally falling off as they shed their fur and then growing back.
Of course, there were also the day-to-day losses.
Depending on the cat's constitution, there might be daily losses of whiskers every week, but as long as they weren't broken or messy, there was no need to worry.
Clearly, Pendragon's whisker belonged to the category of daily losses.
Arthur picked up the whisker and was about to put it into a test tube.
However, in the moment he picked up the whisker, Arthur couldn't help but look at the top of Pendragon's head.
Then, subconsciously, he stuck the whisker onto the top of Pendragon's head.
Pendragon, who had been purring contentedly, suddenly froze as if a switch had been flipped, standing there stunned,
while Arthur looked on, the corners of his mouth turning up.
"Pan, you've grown a whisker on your head!"
"Meow!"
