Did he not give her a name the last time? Gaps in his memory are so common he's learned to accept whatever sounds most like himself in explanation, and it's plausible. Hers doesn't come to mind either--he's just been putting paper in the storeroom as he makes it, aware of the need.

Girl in the blue wig was odd enough out from the village, it probably worked better than a name if he wanted to find her.

"It's Jude," he says, stepping onto a log fallen or rolled onto the path, sunk enough in mud that it's probably more of a pain to move than a necessity. Turning, he offers her a hand up.