The woman had a gentle way of question and the casual way of picking apart her appearance like she did when she was deciding on a mark. Briar was leaning more heavily on the authority figure theory, and was lamenting her idea to rush on living space and job before scoping out who was in charge.
Honestly she had expected little in the way of law or enforcement because of the look of the place. An old pot bellied jovial man whose biggest concern was drunks or people sneaking into the temple for a joke.
The necklace she wore though, the Torc, was something she should probably be wearing. To blend in, because even she knew enough about this country to know how ingrained the faith was. Part of her recoiled at pledging herself, but she had done more absurd things for a job. But this wasn't a job, this was her life now. Her mind scrambled, pulling together what was known about her in town thus far (very little, and limited to a few), how she looked (traditional, rural) for a story if the woman kept prodding.
Instead of responding to the first question she giggled, shrugging her shoulders in a non-answer. Her lips twitched in a bashful grin though, scuffing her boot against the ground looking so different from the confident woman in front of her, "Am I that obvious? I've been on a bit of a journey to get here."