Drakor was quiet.
“And how do you feel about it?”
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What do you think.
Canary speaks with an fake level of calm. "What do you think?*
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“I think you are trying to convince yourself that this is fine,” Drakor said. “But judging by how you are currently sprawled on the ground behind a general store, talking to a man you met this morning, I do not think you are succeeding.”
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‘The’ general store. This is the only one here.
“…I’ve… accepted it.” She claims.
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12
“Have you?” Drakor questioned. “You do not seem at peace.”
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Her eyes look to the side. “It’s… just. Living up to expectations is hard.”
Canary tries her legs again, then slowly begins to stand.
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“That is very reasonable.” Drakor rose, then offered her a hand. “Do not push yourself too hard, Canary. You should not have bear this alone.”
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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?”