<strong>Julie-Anna Crane</strong><br/>Known; Head Sparrow<br/><br/>Was this boy trying to prove something? Or did he think the woman was stupid? The town may have been small, but she knew his type- the military type. The way they looked, the way they walked, the way they talked; it was all the same and all far too obvious. Yet they thought no one noticed. "How nice. We get a fresh blanket of snow in December, something quite wonderful." Her eyes turn to the ground, moving over the footprints. She notes small grooves and dips in the mud, pointing at them with the tip of her heel. "Those are heels dug into the mud. If you look at my prints," she motions behind her, also pointing out that the front of the prints get covered by his own steps over them, "you can see that they are similar. But I suppose you would know a woman's heel best?" Her brow cocked insinuatingly and teasingly before she turned to stride back up toward the center of town.<br/><br/>"I'm sure you've much work to do, so why don't you go ahead and check into the Inn, get some lunch, before continuing. The Sheriff should arrive in the morning. Is there anything else you may need me for?" Body testing back against the white, wooden post of a typical picket fence, the woman looked calm and patient. Curiosity but at her mind, though she knew better than to indulge it. Dark eyes rested on the tan, built man before her.