[He'll notice simply because noticing details is part of what he does, but whether or not he remarks on it is another story. That comes from a combination of working in a job where you don't just go handing out your information like candy to any person who knocks on your door, and working in a job where he's frequently surrounded by informants who don't talk back, thanks to the rather relevant complication of being dead.

Still, he's willing to give this girl credit for the moment, even if it's only marginally so. She's apparently not stupid. Hopefully that initial impression will pan out beyond the initial impression.]

Sounds about like Mom's spiel. Everybody's got the same script and nobody's got any answers.

[He's still silently examining the horse at the moment; his Poochyena, meanwhile, chooses that moment to make her reappearance, bounding happily over from the nearest clump of trees with a stick in her teeth and a proud tilt to her head.]

You keep trying that gadget out and eventually people will turn up to play welcome wagon. Some of the stuff they say is useful; most of it isn't.