After a moment, the woman paused in her step, turned to him, met his eyes. Asked her careful question. Thoughtful, but not too thoughtful to miss his stare. Good. Her expression was calmly shielded with neutrality—not thoughts she would want to share, then. Not at all.
“If you don’t mind my asking, where exactly are we? I seem to have lost my way.”
After catching his eyes on her, she was understandably wary. It was too late to put on a facade of scared, or confused, but he could do lost, certainly, especially since he actually—sort of—was. What had she been thinking about? Someone she missed? Her eyes were defiant, as if daring him to look further. Well, he wasn’t about to disappoint her.
Hands twining, behind her back or in front of her, not in her pockets. Worried about something, but not something she can fix, more of an abstract worry—like she hasn’t seen someone in a long time and wants to make sure they’re okay. Breathing seems a bit ragged, like she’s recently seen something, or someone, she didn’t expect to, and is still recovering. Touches her hair—someone she likes, then. Self-conscious, even as she puts her guard up. Something says she’s met someone like him before.
Recently encountered someone she loves, but lost them again, possibly for good. Doesn’t believe she’ll ever see that person again, likely because of whatever threat looms on her horizon. A sad story, truly.
In response to her level, yet guarded question, the vaguely familiar (where had she seen someone like this before? It kept nagging at her that she had seen this person from somewhere and should know them very well but she couldn’t quite place a finger to the thought) stranger got straight to the question he had: where they were.
Ah, another ‘newcomer’ to this odd city, it seemed like. More and more people seemed to be finding themselves hopelessly lost - or just ‘finding’ themselves here, as she herself had - every day now, and she didn’t much like how uneasy that made her.
Inner thoughts aside, she answered the question to the point as much as the other had asked in that way, explaining aloud: “This town is called “Fiddler’s Green”, if I remember one of the faded signs I saw around here correctly. However, It was quite hard to make out, so I cannot say for sure whether that is truly this place’s name. I do hate to be the bearer of bad news, but those who find their way here seem utterly unable to leave, as illogical as that may sound.”
A pause then, before she continued: “Someone I met earlier pointed out something must have happened to this town, so perhaps that may have something to do with it. Take that with a grain of salt if you will, but those that seem ‘native’ to here all indeed seem on quite the knife-edge tension wise, so there must be some truth to that, as rhetorical as such musings were.” That information that the Colonel Roy passed on to her relayed to another all spoken, she finished by giving an apologetic sort of shrug, admitting:
“That’s all the information I’ve managed to collect thanks to observation and asking others so far, I do apologize for how lacking it was. I’m still working on collecting information, but those…things that lurk the town make going out by yourself quite dangerous.”
Hopefully, that meagre information would be just enough to help the other.
“Oh…how very rude of me. In all that explaining, I forgot to introduce myself. Claire Folly is my name. I used to be a scientist.” She didn’t go into detail about why she wasn’t a scientist any more and frankly, she didn’t want to, so hopefully the other wouldn’t ask.