Open [Evantide Outpost] Lost and Found

[Rionach Stormhand]

Timestamp: 8 Winter, 514 AV

Dust.

That was what most people would see of the Drykas woman on the red dun stallion. It coated her clothes and reduced the windmark on her arm to blotches of red. Her skin was tanned underneath it, and even the black of her braid couldn't quite manage to cut through it.

Emotionally, she didn't look much better: Nearly lying between her yvas' two handles, she'd needed to dismount for people to realize she was nearly six feet tall. Her clothes were sagging on her chest and hips, in the telltale sign that she hadn't eaten regularly. There was an emptiness in her only two questions and responses that had nothing to do with her heavily accented Common speech:

Which way is the inn? Thank you.

Where do I restock my supplies? Thank you.

Most people would put it down to weariness, but a discerning person who knew the Drykas would pick up on the fact that she was alone: Most Drykas women in their twenties would be accompanied by at least one or two relatives, especially if they were married, unless they were on a hunting trip or patrol. And it was weeks if not months from the Sea of Grass, while her spears were as coated in travel dust as the rest of her--unless she'd been defending her territory from the ground, she'd probably ridden straight out to Syliras for some reason or another.