?Need a hand?? You looked up, surprised to see a hand in front of your face. You had heard one set of footsteps come and go while you were trying to recover. You hadn?t heard a second set. Why became clear as you looked up to see Linda ?Running Doe? Nelson looking down at you.
Despite being almost six foot tall, Linda couldn?t have weighed more than a hundred pounds, even if you included the heavy backpack she usually wore. The calfskin moccasins she wore helped to muffle her light tread. Although her complexion was a shade or two darker than yours, her nickname was more a product of her physique than her Native American heritage. She was built like the classic long distance runner, tall and thin. While her 32-28-32 figure only sported B-cups, it was enough to ensure no one could deny she was a woman.
Linda was a rather plain looking woman. She had large, doe-like brown eyes, a small button nose and thin pale lips. It didn?t help that she wore her thin dark brown hair in a pair of tight braids. Like her namesake, Linda was rather shy, almost skittish. You were one of the few people she called friend. Having grown up next to each other, you grew up to be best friends.
You marveled at the ease with which Linda hauled you to your feet when you grabbed her hand. Many a young man had regretted underestimating her. Not only did Linda have some strength, she had the knowledge and will to use it.
?Where?d Cindy go?? you asked Linda. She looked at you somewhat confused, but motioned for you to follow her.
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