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!
After all, there's nothing wrong with the town today and you might just want to savor it while it lasts.
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[ironic, since they're outside!? please, free him of this.]
And maybe a bucket. And a shower. Maybe two.
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[This is all pretty disgusting and awful!!!]
We have done what we can here.
[At least the further they get away, the easier it is to breathe...]
... How truly deplorable, this place is. There is no respect for the dead in the least.
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[it definitely gets easier to breathe, but he still feels like that rancid smell is burned into his nostrils.
he deserves a medal for not puking on barnham's shoes yet, probably.]
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[Thanks for not vomiting on his shoes.
He glances at Noct, and then waves him off.]
Go on then. Bathe, find something to settle your stomach with, and take a breather.
[no vomiting.]
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[but he's kind of just giving a half-hearted wave before he heads off because. ugh. ugh.
he'll be fine, but somehow that situation was worse than on friday, so.
you know.
icky.]