She reached the final pile without finding anything even close to fitting her. Then her hand brushed against something stiff and coarse. She pulled out a jacket made of a rough blue material. Denim, that's what it was called. Unlike the other clothes, the denim jacket also looked about her size.
She stood up to try the jacket on. It was a couple of sizes too big, the hem coming to about the middle of her thighs and the sleeves overhanging her fingers by an inch or two. Still, it was close enough. Plus the rough material was dry and would be sturdy enough to make it through the forest without tearing. She buttoned the jacket and smiled at the warmth it provided.
With the jacket still on, she resumed her digging. She found a pair of pants made from the same material as the jacket. Blue jeans. There was also a blouse made of black cotton fabric. A T-shirt. Both articles looked a bit too big for her, but they would serve her purposes.
She changed into the dry clothes and again smiled. There was something familiar about this ensemble. A voice whispered at her to check the pockets. She rifled through the interior and exterior pockets of the jacket and the pockets of the jeans without finding anything. Yet she couldn't help feeling she should have found something.
She put a hand to her wet hair and felt something else was missing. Her limbs began to move of their own accord as she dug around the pile. At last she turned up an orange band made of a stretchy fabric-elastic. She pushed her hair back and gathered it into a short ponytail, which she secured with the elastic band. One rogue tress slipped out to caress her cheek.
A mirror winked at her in the light. She toddled over to it, careful not to trip on the cuffs of the pants. She stared at her face in the mirror, a smile spreading across her face. She saw more than a simple reflection; she saw a memory of her past. It's me, she thought. This was how she had looked in her past, before Pryde had kidnapped her. Perhaps she hadn't worn these exact clothes, but she had worn something similar to them.
Her head began to ache from these thoughts. Another stomach cramp nearly doubled her over. Maybe she should get some sleep; it was probably almost morning by now and she hadn't slept all night. The piles of clothes would make a decent enough nest, softer even than her pallet back in town. She curled up on one pile and then pulled up a couple of skirts as blankets. Within moments she had fallen to sleep.