"I wouldn't call it assault," Euan contradicted, letting his head loll backwards, face tipped towards the sun. "It's more like they're herding people. Luggage-shaped collies, yeah?" Everyone was constantly negative here. Euan didn't understand it. If they were stuck here, which they were, then why not make the best of it? Sure, he missed his magic some, but he'd gone most of his life without it once before. And the bungalows could use a bit of TLC, but they weren't exactly strapped for time. He'd make it into a project! As for his job, Euan quite liked it. Town Crier. It was much better than cleaning vomit off of alleyways and washing glasses and pouring oneself into bed at five o'clock in the morning.
Okay, that last bit wasn't true. He loved working in the bar.
But Euan was distracted by his collie metaphor as soon as Caradoc mentioned his murder.
"Oh, I know. I mean— I didn't know his name was Evan, but that does suit him a lot better than George does, don't you think?" Euan flopped to the ground, head hitting the sand with a light 'thump'. One eye cracked open, watching Caradoc's face. "I know about him killing you though. Geo— Evan told me."
"And he hasn't been telling me lies," Euan added, narrowing his single open eye. "Unless you count omission as a lie. I don't, personally."