"Who are you?" she asked softly, starting to cry softly. "Why are you here?" From the girl's thin frame, he could see she hadn't eaten much in a while. Her lips and hands were chapped; all of her clothing had holes. She trembled in the cool air, trying not to get her hopes up that this mysterious man would rescue her. She couldn't depend on fairytales; she knew that. But he looked so much like Prince Charming, and her father had always called her Cinderella.