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It's a rather quaint town when you get down to it. At least, that's what the Sheriff would argue. Warm and dry in the mornings and afternoons with a brisk coolness in the evenings. The perfect type of weather to just sit out on your rocking chair and observe the comings and goings.
... Of course, there's not much in the way of comings and goings when there aren't any actual people here to watch. Nevertheless, don't let that get you down! The town is your oyster and those roosters won't stop crowing until everyone's out of bed. Up and at 'em, rise and shine, it's time to make the day yours!
Except there is, perhaps, a few things amiss.
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She could lose vital information only retained in short-term memory if she doesn't at least try to talk about it some.
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If it registers with her, that idea of memory distortion, she doesn't give an outward sign. Not a clear one, anyway. The look of concern on her face sharpens, but she doesn't seem upset. Just ... worried. ]
I'm not going to stop you if you want to talk to her, or anything. I'm just really worried about her. Please just be careful, okay?
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Are you injured?
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Which is a bad idea, as she accidentally puts weight on her right foot. This produces both a full-body wince (half out of surprise, half out of the pain itself) and a hiss before she quickly shifts again.
........... ]
I'm fine, [ she mutters, embarrassed and stubborn. ]