Ekra stepped back as the shadow man materialized. Now what was that? She didn't think there were actual beings that lived in shadows. The closest she knew of were the Stalfos, who didn't literally live in the shadows like this thing did. Then the shadow man pocketed the throwing knife. 

"Hey!" Being bumped around like she wasn't there, she could tolerate. Being menaced, not pleasant but she'd tolerate it. Taking her present? Now that was just low. And since when was he a friend? She never had many, but friends didn't steal from friends. Thankfully, the blacksmith noticed. Before Ekra could tell, the shadow spoke of destiny and the whispers. She wanted to know how he knew - he sure didn't sound like the whisperer, so maybe he worked for the voice - or opposed the voice. Both? But there was a more pressing matter first. She looked up to the blacksmith and pointed to the shadowy figure.

"He was going after you, and he took the throwing knife." Technically, that was what happened in this cemetery.