Perhaps somewhere else, new faces would be unremarkable-- a bigger city, like London, or even Forestmaw.
Here, though? Too tight knit. Too intimate, everyone knew everyone, there was no escaping the flash of recognition or the chime of a greeting, unless one avoided people entirely. And that wasn’t exactly smiled upon-- nor would Pembleton ever allow it. Keeping him among people was keeping him in line.
Occasionally, they’d get travellers passing through, buying supplies and watering their horses, but she didn’t seem to be among them, either. In fact, she seemed rather lost.
“Are you alright?” Blank asked, noticing that the other townspeople seemed to be avoiding her due to her lost look. It was one of those towns, but Blank’s sister worked in the traveller’s supply shop, and he visited often-- he had no problem with strangers. Honestly he liked them better than the people who dwelled in the town itself. “Do you need directions, ma’am?”