May 27th, 1886
The sheriff was almost a dead end. I arrived at his office today and did not hesitate to get into it. When I mentioned the man in the woods, his smile never faded, but his eyes spoke volumes. It was as though he knew that what I was saying was correct.
He refused to speak on the matter further after that. As I exited his office, he asked how long I would be in town for. I only told him I paid for a week, but could likely extend my stay.
I stopped into the saloon to pick up some things, but after I had, the owner stopped me. He began to tell me that I would need to leave. Rather than saying anything, I simply stared at him. A good glare can go a long way, but a simple stare with no words becomes awkward.
After ten minutes, he asked if I heard him and I only nodded in return, then continued staring. By the time he started to become annoyed, I simply said I would be finishing my stay as I had already paid. His mouth hung open after that.
Knowing one is right, and confirming it with the person claiming wrong doesn’t always work. Salem is exactly a time like that. Only Margaret was at fault and I told everyone as much. I even begged for the lives of the others, but they all began to look at me as though I too were a witch.
When I arrived back at the saloon the owner simply nodded at me. Clearly it worked this time. It was as though nothing had happened. This was several hours later, and everything seemed to be in order.
It was odd that this happened right after my conversation with the sheriff, but he never left his office that I could see. I suppose there could be a back door, but he would have had to speed over here.
My thought is that this was planned yesterday. The sheriff and I had a pleasant conversation. I even saw him in the saloon that night. It had to be last night then.
As for what I did the remainder of my day, I rode Penelope a few miles into the dense forest. Hard terrain, trees, and rock were all I found. It was a massive waste of time.
If this is a blue dragon, I suspect they transform and fly to their destination any time they need to return. Five hours on horseback is about ten minutes for a regular dragon, like myself. Blue dragons, they’re a different story. Two or three minutes is all that trip would have taken for them.
This must be the reason. I will try the sheriff again tomorrow. He knows more than he’s letting on. I would also like to confront him about the incident today. I doubt much will come of it, but it would be great to see his reaction to what I have to say.