On the shore of new lands

Helena woke up on a new shore, still wet and covered in seaweed. She tries to get up, only for her stomach to twist with pain. She turned to her side and vomited out buckets of seawater. She coughs and stutters on the beach, clearing her throat and recovering from yesterday's events. Once she finally gets all the water out of her system, she's ready to try to get up. She struggles to find her feet. She gets up, first pushing her body up with her arms, then gets up on her feet.

She gets up, shivering as the wind blows on her wet, naked body. The seaweed she washed up in barely protected her modesty, and provided no protection from the cold. Helena does her best to cover her growing bosom, too large to be covered by her hands alone. She has to carry them in her arms like a bundle of food. She is cold, hungry and needs shelter, so she wipes her eyes and walks away from the sea.

Looking around, she can tell that this is not her home island of Crete. The beach gave way to large rolling plains, rather than the forest she ran from. Looking off into the distance, she can see a small village a good distance away from the beach. There is also a band of travelers passing by, it seems they haven't noticed her. Looking up at the sky, she can tell it's early in the morning. If she sets off now, she’d reach the town by sunset. She could try her luck with those travels, but she has no idea who they are, or where they came from.