Lindy-Lou wasn't sure what a looky-lou was but she wasn't going to find out, either. As soon as she'd seen the stiff, she hightailed it out of there, grabbed her fiddle from the cabin, well, she couldn't very well leave it behind. It had been gifted her by the Great Tone-Bum from the outer galaxy of Hobonimus, it's like unknown in any known universe. To the earth-bound it just looked like an old beater, but with a well-practised third eye the beauty and rarity of it shone like a beacon, glimmering shoals of colour in its body almost susurrating in a blend of otherwordly tunes.

Once she cleared the meadow and scooted carefully past the hot springs, Lindy found an outcropping of granite boulders to hunker down behind. With her Long-View, she could keep an eye on her folk friends and watch for the projectile-spewing weapon which had apparently killed the stranger. It was a bitch, really, being constrained by the ethics board. The earth-bound didn't know how right they'd gotten it when they made the popular show, Star Trek, in which no one was allowed to interfere with local happenings.Prime Directive, indeed. A much more succinct way of putting it than the "The sort of bloody nonsense up with which we shall not put" which dominated her Universal Codebook. She could have saved the hiker, but her Implant Cue was programmed specifically against that. She shook her head at the tears that leaked from her eyes. Not intervening is what left her missing the Love of her artificial heart. If only she could have saved him, she wouldn't be alone on a planet far from home still trying to complete a sorry-assed mission which had been dragged out over millennia, herself being the latest sacrifice to the Great and Terrible Counsel of Stringed Ones and their search for the Ultimate Folkie.

Sitting as still as a statue, she opened her third eye and let her antennae emerge from the top of her head. As she stilled her thoughts, she began to transmit...Urgent...advise on protocol...one earth-bound dead...abort mission? She sat back, concentrating on an answer, waiting for it to transcend to her space.