Dawnlark Plains wanted: big bad wolf

Oh, wow. If she wasn't a ghost, then she had recently been fashioned from mud by a wizarding lunatic who had breathed life into her and disappeared in the same moment.

Miraculously, Sam understood the word 'coast'. He groaned inwardly. The guidebook to villainy told him to leave her, but every fibre of his being screamed at him to help.

"Fine, fine," he said, looking around. Having functioning eyes was of absolutely no help; no direction screamed coast more than another. "Did you come from there, or...? I don’t know where 'coast' is." Not to mention that it would be a huge and annoying detour. Perhaps whoever had let her wander did not want her back. She was clearly helpless. The kind thing would be to walk her off a cliff.