(at the risk of a slight discontinuity, I'm going to re-set Isis back into the fray, dry and normal. Hopefully I'll turn around my track record of starting things that seem to end abruptly.)
Isis strolled across the campgrounds absent-mindedly, feeling a bit bored. She wandered past the strong Phauxnorse putting things up, as well as a small but growing crowd of Aygomen. Those always seemed to stop and stare as she walked past. She supposed she looked a little out of place, a black speck on a tan canvas. Still, none of them seemed interested in talking or introducing themselves, so she continued her stroll. There was a restlessness to her walk, as if she were looking for something but could not put her finger on what it was.
She stopped in the middle of an open area and stretched lazily, revealing her tall stature compared to the others. Well, the ones that weren't phauxnorse. It was then that she noticed the Eboniaan man from earlier, loudly padding around in sopping wet clothes. For some reason he had had no access to a towel of dry clothing, resulting in him looking rather ridiculous. The loud slapping of his wet slippers made her giggle at the silliness of it.
Off to her side, she noticed the shabby magician from the other night. He seemed to be talking rather intently with a tall and maybe even shabbier dressed woman. Isis looked back and forth between her two recent acquaintances, and wondered if she should wave or come over to either of them. She didn't know them well at all, and the other Eboniaan seemed to want nothing to do with her earlier. And it might be rude to interrupt the magician in the middle of his conversation. Isis stood there, quite easy to see as her tall frame stood above the sparse crowd, her black skin and bright yellow clothing a stark contrast to the earth tones all around her. She was obvious enough to notice as she pondered what, if anything, to do next.