The young woman was wandering like a lost dog, scowling at something she held up to the sky, then bringing it down in front of her face, then holding it up again. Her clothes were unlike anything Bodhi had seen before, but they were clean and bright. If she was lost, she had not been lost for long. Somebody was probably available to her not far away, perhaps on the track down by the river, where the less timid adventurers sometimes found their way.
I love this story Craig, very moving xx