Follow the stream

You look around at your surroundings. Going straight up or down the cliff seems impossible, ruling out the fastest way to get back with the rest of the party. If anything, they would keep going up the ridge, expecting you to meet back with them further up the path. In your current situation, one path in that direction seems obvious. The source of this stream is in the direction you were heading before your fall, and it seems to be the only clear path in that direction for you to take.

You take one last look up the slope and silently mourn for your missing bikini top before taking your first careful steps along the banks of the stream. Many of the rocks along your path are slick, and slipping on one of them would no doubt leave you much worse off than just a few scrapes. Whenever you find yourself climbing over large outcroppings or exposed tree roots you move extra slowly, taking one arm to hold your breasts in place. Oh how you wish you could have saved your top somehow. If you did you would not have to worry so much about having them hang free.

And so you continue, following the water and hoping you can rejoin your friends soon.