"So the locals are willing to distrust even a well-mannered, handsome girl? I'm shocked," he drawls caustically. "Village idiots will see villains anywhere. At first I thought they were giving me the usual ignorant wariness, but I swiftly figured out it had more to do with the idea that they think of me as a man-shaped demon spat out by the sky. It's only a matter of time before the bards spin songs about the demons, disease, and famine we shed across the lands."

Sarkan drums his long, pale fingers lightly.

"As for the stifling being solely due to your inexperience -- No, evidently, it's not just you." The Dragon is far from an inexperienced neophyte, for instance. "And it's a problem, an endlessly aggravating one that doesn't have a quick solution."

After all, Sarkan is known to blink away the sleepies even by just dressing himself in the mornings. He shall have to start repeating outfits soon. Heavens! How can he expect to employ his best, strongest anti-corruption spells and strategies if a miserable handful of back-alley tricks is enough to give him a brief fit of wooziness?

"I wonder..." he ponders, allowing the phrase to dangle in the air for a moment. He abruptly changes course after a moment or two. "Do you wish to learn about Circle magic and the four schools? And can you recall how long it's been since you fell through the rift?"