Izzy glowered at Holden for a moment, then glanced aside with an irritated snort. She did a double take when movement down the path just caught her attention. She turned slightly on the bench to get a better look, more than happy to put a pause on her and Holden's banter.
	She watched the boy at the head of the trail for a moment, surprised he was still standing with how stuffed his backpack looked. She glanced to the poorly-written name tag, trying to no avail to make out the child’s full name. Her gaze shifted behind him, looking for his parents, but she did not see any adults around. Though not unusual to find gradeschoolers mulling about on a weekend, something about him being alone with a backpack packed to bursting and a map in hand did not quite settle well. Maybe he was lost. Or a runaway.
	“Huh.” Izzy glanced to Holden, and nodded toward the boy. “What do you make of that?” she asked, then returned her gaze to the boy. “Don’t suppose you can make out his name, can you? I can’t read anything past ‘Michael.’”