He was roughly my height, a little shorter if anything, and had a mop of messy slightly curly chestnut coloured hair that was poking out from underneath a grey hoody.
Eventually, he'd given up and sat down, shoving his legs into the sand to keep them somewhat warm and staring up at the stars. He wasn't dreadful afraid of being lost, though he was afraid he might not be found again. Or perhaps worse, that he might be found by the wrong thing.