By the time your hand reached out, she seemingly got up on her own. Or she ignored it, or missed it alltogether.
“What should we… do now?”
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She looks down at your outstretched hand in confusion.
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Drakor shrugged, then rested his hand on his belt. “I’m just going to wait-”
He frowned. “Hang on, did you get the names from the shopkeeper?”
She looks at you in confusion. “Didn’t the Wanderer tell you?”
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“Ah. That’s what he meant,” Drakor said. “I was wondering.”
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{…}
“Kamilla is the blacksmith’s daughter.” Canary advises.
She doesn’t mention Yana.
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“Do you know her well?” Drakor asked.
“Not… really. More well than I know the other main suspect. But… not really.”
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Drakor looked thoughtful. “What about the shopkeeper?”
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She looks confused. “The shopkeeper?”
“She mentioned she had a dress of the same material,” Drakor said. “I didn’t get a good look at her shoes, but do you think she’s the sort of person who would murder?”
“Her shoe size doesn’t match.”
…That wasn’t very smart.
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“-I looked down when I was at the counter. They didn’t seem to match. By a mile.” I start to cover my statement up.
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Drakor frowned. “You’re sure? My view wasn’t great, but I didn’t think it was that far off. Certainly not by a mile.”
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Hopefully- “Who’s the one who tracked the steps? And figured out where he fell?”
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Drakor frowned. “Both of us tracked the steps. I don’t think that’s particularly relevant, though? We both saw them.”
He scratched his head. “Are you implying that I’m misremembering the foot sizes?”
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