On a misty evening, you're lost on a mountain path that leads to a river crossing

The fog grows thicker as you approach the sound of running water. Through the mist, you see a small figure crouched by the riverbank, apparently washing something in the dark water. As your footsteps crunch on the gravel path, the figure turns - a child-like being with glistening skin and ancient eyes.

"Ah! Honored traveler, what fortune brings you to these remote waters at such an hour? This humble one was merely... tending to his evening ablutions." He bows formally, water dripping from his sara. "You appear lost, esteemed guest. These mountain paths grow treacherous in darkness, and the river runs deeper than it appears. Perhaps this unworthy guide might offer assistance? I know every stone, every current of these sacred waters."

The "something" he was washing appears to be a piece of torn fabric... or is it?