July, Walking *{Lightbringer+kittyoemily}*

July was not even aware of what had happened for a moment as she was knocked off of her feet in half of an instant; she hit the ground underneath the body that had hurtled into her and all the air in her lung was knocked out of her body, she gasped, fruitlessly, for several long seconds before a blessed inrush of air relieved her agony. Then, shoving at the body that had run into her, July was able to begin assessing the damage: her arms and fingers seemed okay, thankfully. She had a pain in her head where she'd probably struck the ground, her elbows were scraped, her back hurt, too. 

Struggling to get up as soon as the boy who'd knocked her down moved up half way off her when he sat, July looked up at him and shoved, "Let me UP," she gasped .."Why the hell were you running like that." July still sounds breathless and rather annoyed and hopes this isn't some criminal and now there are about to be a hundred peacekeepers around who will probably step on her also. At least she didn't sound seriously injured, though she was developing a black eye, probably where an elbow or hand had caught her.

I could see plainly that the young man who had run into me had a concussion. I had had to take first aid for work like everyone else did, and I was almost certain that that was what I was looking at here. So when the guy muttered about sleeping, I knew that was the worst idea on the list. Despite the fact of my having gotten bashed around, there was no way I was going to let the young man just suffer here in the street, or worse, and I smiled despite the eye and quickly corralled several of the men standing there to help me with the injured boy.



"We'll take him to Mr. Ferree," I said, which was the only place TO take him; the doctor wouldn't see him without being paid in advance, and I had no means to do so. Mr. Ferree, the town medic, knew more about healing than the doctor, anyhow, and now that I'd given the idea to the men, I just had to get out of the way as two of them picked up the boy and hauled him there.



Not sure why I was investing myself, but sure I had to see that the boy would be all right, I followed along, and explained, "He's got a concussion," as they laid the boy on a bare wooden table. "I can see that, young lady," said the medic, a middle aged man with greying hair and a brisk demeanor as he got to work examining the boy. After a few minutes, he said the boy could stay the night, and he'd take care of him; I thanked him and promised to visit first thing in the morning, before school. Then I took one last look at the semi-conscious boy and headed home.



Davys and Marrissa and, of course, Dad, made a big fuss over my black eye an scraped elbows; Dad calmed down once he understood it hadn't been a purposeful attack. The kids were happy once I remembered the candy and gave them each their lemon drop after dinner, and we had another nice and pleasant night like most of them, me falling asleep as usual with Marrissa pressed against my side in our little bed.



Come morning, my head ached and I examined the black eye; the swelling wasn't half as bad as it could have been, nothing that would prevent me from working, happily. I got ready like always but left the house early, remembering I meant to check on the boy who I'd been run over by, and so, minutes later I was standing on the medic's doorstep, being shown in and into the room where the young man was sleeping, probably having just drifted off after being awakened multiple times. 

On the way to the medic's house, I wonder who the boy is; it seems like I may have seen him around at some point, but I know I don't know him, since I can't even put a name to his face. My eye kind of stings, but it's nothing I can't deal with; I've gotten clipped with the haft of a swung axe before, and that hurt much worse. This time I am sure nothing is broke, anyhow.

I head to Mr. Ferree's house, and knock on the door, and he lets me in, looking exhausted, and he sighs, and mutters that the boy is better now.

The boy who ran into me is apologizing, and so I nod, and give him little smile, and say, "Its ok. No harm done, really." I shrug and say, "I've been in worse accidents. My name's July, by the way." I heft my pack up onto my shoulder again since it'd slipped down, and slide my hands into the pockets of my jeans. I know my clothes aren't exciting or anything, but I have work after school.

He asks if he can follow me to school, so I reply, "If Mr. Ferree says you can leave, you can follow me to school, sure," I say, a bit amused at the young man's tongue tied condition. He isn't in my grade, though he has a sort of familiar face, liks I've seen him around somewhere.

I tell him, "I'll be right back," and go and talk to the medic. I thank the older man for taking care of the boy and ask whether he can leave; he can, as long as he has someone to watch out for him, which would be me, apparently, and so I come back and say, "Ok, get up, but slowly." I know enough to know that concussions are tricky things. "You can tell me why you were running like that while we walk."

Walking out with the boy, I realize I don't know his name yet, and I speak at the same time he does: him, asking my age, and me saying, "So what's your name?" I giggle when we overlap like that, but I answer his question first, "I'm sixteen." I feel silly for giggling about it, but something about him makes me feel giddy. Or, more likely, I have a touch of concussion myself. I start to head to school, as long as he walks beside me. School, which makes me sigh a little, I rarely find school to be a productive way to spend my day.

((OOC - sorry so short but I want to give him a chance to introduce himself and etc.))

So his name is Daniel and he's two years younger than me. That's funny, somehow I was imagining he'd be older, but it explains why I don't really know him yet. His head has a huge lump, but at least the blood has been cleaned away. Well, I don't mind that he's fourteen, as long as he doesn't act like a bratty little kid. I know he is lying when he says he hasn't skipped school before - I know he has, somehow. So have I, for that matter, I just don't make a habit of it so I never really get in trouble for it. I smile back at Daniel and I say, "Ok, we'll skip school but I have to be at work in the afternoon." One thing I don't do is skip work. Work actually matters: work helps feed my family. "I guess we could go hang out in the woods where they're not cutting today, if you wanted. Unless you have a better idea?" I look at him with a smile, to let him know I actually want to hear what his idea is.

As we walk, I wonder just why he was running yesterday, and how he seems to be avoiding the question. He pretty obviously was running from someone, so I am curious from whom, and why. He could have stolen something, or else played some sort of prank; those seem the most obvious reasons. I can't, of course, afford to get caught up with a real troublemaker, but I don't know that Daniel is one, yet, so I can spend the morning with him, anyhow. "Everyone else who isn't at school or work is somewhere watching the Games.." I say, casually, not going so far as to say I don't really care to do so, which I don't, but wondering what he will say.

"Actually," I say, frowning, and keeping my voice down quiet, "I'd rather not watch the Games if it's all the same." I know I should never admit something like that aloud, at least not to someone I am just getting to know, but I can't help myself, and it seems somehow as if Daniel might understand. He's obviously some kind of rebel in his own way, running away from people and skipping school, so there is this part of me that hopes he will understand the rebellious part of me, the part that doesn't watch the games except the parts we have to watch in public with everyone else. "We can do whatever else, just so long as we don't get caught; you're not great at running away." I say the last part with a grin, to show Daniel I am teasing him.

As I follow along where he leads, I contemplate why this seemed such a fun thing to do today. Granted, I just plain don't have much use for school. They should let us quit when we want and work full time, instead, if we choose. It isn't as though they teach us anything new - they teach the same things basically that we learned when we were six, just with bigger words now. But, at least today might be interesting, though hopefully without Daniel getting me into very serious trouble. I watch him, trying to gauge how he'll react to what I just said. I don't know why I care so much, just for some odd reason, I do.