Oshin is heading home.
Not where she grew up, or where she was born, or even where her mother had been born. She’s heading to the very birthplace of her kind, and the thought thrills her.
She follows the currents, tasting the way the salt seems to weaken in the water the closer she gets to a river. She figures once she hits the mouth she’ll get a better idea of where to go. If not, at least she’ll have that as a landmark. Or, seamark, rather.