Early afternoon, Chatoeil town square. It was warmer here, and cleaner. She didn't really need her borrowed cloak, or the second pair of socks she was wearing under her worn skirt and boots.
Linnet had spent the past few months in and around London, mostly relying on the hospitality of friends she barely remembered, though she felt a certain fondness for some of them now she was forming new memories that she could rely on. She made certain never to sleep on the same sofa for more than a week or two. She only accepted one item of clothing from each person who offered. It wasn't right to take advantage of people, that much she didn't need to be told.
She was earning money now, though. Not that she had a job as such, not yet. She hadn't managed to find anything that didn't make her feel uncomfortable and confused. Most jobs seemed so...pointless. Why would she want to pour coffee for someone who could easily do it for themselves? Although she didn't realise it, in many ways Linnet was still thinking like the tree she had been for so long, and the experience had changed her. She understood that healers, for example, had a very worthwhile job, but it wasn't something she could imagine doing, even if she had the abilities. She didn't even have a wand any more, after all. But a tree simply took what it needed and gave back the air that others breathed, and she was having a hard time translating that into something her human form could do.
It had started when she had spotted an discarded guitar in an alleyway. Two of the strings were broken, but it had sparked a memory, and she remembered something she could do. Play music, make people happy, and they would give her sickles that she could use to buy food. That was as close to a form of symbiosis as she had so far discovered, and so she'd taken the guitar, cleaned it, replaced the broken strings, allowed her fingers to remember how to create music, and then sat in the street and played. Sometimes people threw money to her - she tended to get a better reaction close to the pubs in Diagon alley - and sometimes they told her to get a proper job. But she was surviving, and would have continued without any further purpose had someone not asked her how her grandmother was these days.
This time. the memory came with an emotion. It wasn't one she could name, but it made her feel sad and hopeful and bereft and guilty all at the same time. Linnet had no idea how her grandmother was. She hadn't even thought to approach anyone in her family to let them know she was alive. It hadn't seemed important. but now...
Now she was in Chatoeil. She knew her grandmother lived here now, it was just a case of remembering where. With her guitar strapped to her back, she walked down the street. She knew she'd been here before, but nothing seemed familiar. Linnet had hoped she would be able to find the residential area without needing assistance and thus find her way to her grandmother's house, but that didn't seem likely now. So instead she started looking around for someone who she felt able to speak to. Linnet spoke French; someone had mentioned the year she'd spent at Beauxbatons and thus it had seemed reasonable she could speak the language, so she'd found a book in French and discovered she could read it.
There. A woman, seeming close to her in age. Ordinary looking, a little taller than Linnet herself. The elemental reminded herself to smile as she approached and said in accented but clearly understandable French "Excuse me? Can you help me please?"
@Inga (sorry, it won't let me tag poor Ségo xD)