He points to an open cabinet.
“Pretty sure she keeps that closed during business hours. This little sneak probably went scouring through it.”
You glance at the cabinet. It’s open, sure, but it doesn’t look like anything inside has been disturbed. And all you can see in there are the smith’s tools…
Wait a moment. There’s a set of pliers in there that looks a lot like the kind Feldspar has – and he liked to joke they were only twenty years out of date instead of fifty. In short, they’re out of time.
So your guess is the thief took the old pliers and swapped them for newer ones. But you have no clue why, and you’re getting a disturbing lack of a read from the grebling. Not even a hint of any facial expression.
But the lack of tail reminds you of the prisoner you caught snooping around the camp. That feels like an age ago, even though from another point of view it’s a long way from happening in the first place. And the lack of any response – you heard that followers of the forgotten god would be completely silent when caught and questioned, and would disappear from captivity without a trace.
To another time, maybe.
Which is all well and good as speculation, but true or not, it doesn’t tell you what to do with this grebling, right now.