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Lucian gave her the moment that she needed. He had been taught that when someone was grieving that they were in some way trying to comprehend their thoughts. To understand what was happening and place things into the right place. If one started to talk to them further than the pressure would be too great and thus wrath would come. Death is a solemn process and men need to walk through it.
Taking one of her cloths the woman dabbed her eye with it, “I… sorry.”
“Take your time. I am the one here asking for information.” Lucian said while giving her a kind smile that he hoped would raise her spirits.
“Was there anyone who looked off around him? Anything seeming out of the ordinary?”
The woman was silent as she took care of her appearance, “Uh, there was one. No, two.”
“What did they look like?”
“They were… odd fellows.” Lucian watched as the woman’s back seemed to shiver, “The first was a nice looking man. He did not have any hair but his face did not have too many warts on it. And, oh, he was wearing a black cloak!”
“And what of the other?”
There was a flicker there Lucian noticed. Her eyes shifted past Lucian towards something that he could not see. Seeing it upon the face of another was odd but he knew it in an instant for he felt it too.
Pure, unadulterated, terror.
“He… he was wearing a black cloak. That was all.” She said before reaching for the door, “I do not want to talk more.”
>With a gentle force, keep the door open
>Something's off, force her to stay in the conversation
>That's plenty of information. Let her go.
