A Passing Breeze - Part 11

"Am I right in making the assumption that the Lady Felder supposes our assassin to have used the tent roofs as a means of escape?" Verdant said, as Nila busied herself with her detective work, placing her hands on the canvas side of the tents, acting through the motions of climbing it, seemingly trying to put her mind in the head of the killer.

"…That's about the only conclusion that I can draw," Oliver said. "Or perhaps she believes that he really did fly away."

The corners of Verdant's lips curled ever so slightly in amusement. "Well, it would be a fine trick, I do suppose. Enough to confuse even Solgrim's best tracker. To simply free oneself up of the constraints of gravity—"

"There!" Nila said, pointing, finding the smallest splash of mud, three quarters of the way up the tent wall, just before the canvas began to slope in the beginnings of the roof.

"…Mud?" Oliver said.