You sat with Simon, sitting on his horse —which is named Soot, for its dark pelt— with your arms wrapped around him to prevent yourself from falling off. He's a bit of an odd fella, some half-elf with a little cowboy hat, despite being miles from the nearest desert or savannah.

"Hey, that looks like a water wheel!" You begin, pointing at a broken water wheel, practically swallowed by the nearby lake. "Or I guess, an underwater wheel!"

Simon snorts at your words, an... unusual occurence.