The main street is lined with small shops. The first one you come to is a grocery. You cannot go inside in your current state of dishevelment, so you wait outside until a young woman exits with her purchases. You approach and ask her timidly: “Is this Fettersville?” Startled by your appearance, the young woman takes you aside quickly.
“Fettersville is much farther to the west, my friend. I can tell that you have purchased a ticket to the Promised Land, but you have traveled in the wrong direction. There are many stations along the way to Fettersville, and heavy loads of freight. You must ask an agent to introduce you to the proper conductor. You will not find such an agent here. Head back the way you came, my friend. The stars will guide you if you interpret them correctly.”
You thank her and head back into the safety of the wilderness in search of a safe place to lay your head until nightfall, when you will have to consider another night sky orientation.