The face is right, but everything else is wrong. He's shorter, skinnier; Natasha's memory supplies her with a photograph she'd seen in files, once, of Private Rogers during basic training. She stands slowly from her spot near a pack she's sorting, watching him the entire time she rises. Timelines are strange here, especially after a jump, and if this is Steve, it may be one who doesn't know who she is.

But that's not going to stop her from trying. Natasha drops the rope in her hand into the pack at her feet, and then approaches Steve casually.

"Hey, soldier. You looking for someone?"