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The Dwarf, lingering at the back of the group, waited for the others to rush off. He wasn't feeling very sociable at all, and hardly wanted to get to know six new people at once. Six not-all too-pleasant people, by the looks of them. He slowed his pace, waiting for the others to outstrip him and leave him in peace.
A few moments later, he was alone, except for the hundreds of people milling about him in the crowded, alien city. Well... how hard could it be to find this... Where was he going? The Edge? Where-on-the-Edge, that was it, wasn't it? Or Where... where something.
He stopped at the side of the pavement, and looked down at his map.
He looked up in dismay.
He rushed forwards, trying in vain to see the group in front of him. What were their names? Oh, why was he cursed with such a poor memory?
A scrap of orange! There, in front of him! That old hag... the nutty one... Brokenback! That was her name! The Woman Of The Hideous Scarf... The rest of the group had to be with her... there was no way they'd get to Whereington-upon-Edgehaven individually.
"Brokenback! Brokenback!" he mispronounced, bumping into the crowds of people. "Wilhelmina! Wait!" But the scarf continued onwards, oblivious. Why wasn't she waiting for him? Was she deaf or something?
He started running - she was only a few metres off now - regardless of the rushing traffic around him.
"Wilhelmina!"
No reply.
Finally he caught up with the old woman, patting her on the arm, and turned her around. He had found her! He was alone no longer!
But why weren't the others with her?
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