Reeter watched the strange girl through the cover of the undergrowth. She had never anyone like her before, and was curious to know more about her. The girl looked about Reeter's age, although she didn't know what that was exactly, but she wore incredibly different clothes to Reeter's own dirty smock. Not that Reeter cared, she'd never wanted to wear anything else. She was also much plumper than Reeter, but Reeter knew that she herself was scarcely more than skin and bone so that hardly mattered. What was odd about the girl was the way she was walking.
The girl was carrying a large bag that made whumph noises as it bounced up and down on her back. She seemed determined, but at the same time rather scared. Reeter didn't know why, but she was curious.
Never heard of a rich girl running away from home, wonder where she's going to go? Getting stealthily to her feet, Reeter followed the girl, slipping through the underbrush as silently as a ghost, following her like a hound on the scent. She'd spent most of her life in this forest, hiding here when life in the town got too hard, and she knew every inch of it like the back of her hand. The girl obvoisly didn't from the way she blundered about, like a fawn looking for it's mother.
And probably just as clueless.