A stray bit of cloth had blown in his direction, and he'd already reached out to catch it before he heard the exclamation from across the courtyard. Fingers closing around the fabric, he smoothed it and approached the woman, her wild hair whipping in the wind.

He could sympathize - his own mess of ash blond hair was pinned tightly, and (mostly) contained by the bandanna, but there was no keeping all of it under wraps, so to speak.

He held out the wimple to her.

"It does not seem to have gotten dirty."