Nowhere to go [scout/gaby]

Banquo liked circles. He always had. There was something about the soft repetition of the unbroken loop that spun ‘round and ‘round that soothed his soul. Perhaps that was why bicycles calmed him as they did.

The rapid blur of the wheels.
The warm strain in the legs as they pound at the peddles.

He sped through the far-easterly neighbourhood at such a speed that only colours could be seen flitting at the corner of his eye. The stone of building became of narrow range of greys. All else merged into a brown mix of mud and barely surviving tree trunks.

No one he passed took much noticed. He didn’t mind, of course. Less distractions from the trail that he closely followed. The ground beneath him bubbled and humped with rocks and muddy dips, and with mountainous mounds in concrete where unkept roots surged below.

For the first time in a week the rain had slowed to a occasional drip falling only from forest canopies or out of drain pipes. It was still, but no sun had come. The lake-like puddles sat ready to engulf the foot of anyone who dared to step near it. His wheels parted the water like the religious men of worlds long since dead parted the seas.
The back of his whole form was black with dirt. Mud clung to his hair, dripping with a chill onto his bare neck.

The streets became quiet as he entered the outskirts of the town. Emptiness would soon become Peacekeeper strongholds, then finally the fence of the district boundary. It was time to return home.

He reached for the breaks.
Nothing…

The metal skeleton hurtled down the dirt slope, jolting its nervous rider to and fro. Undefeated, he tries the lever again. Again he is met with no return. He plants his feet into the ground beneath his; his speed continues, sending tidal waves of mud in his wake.

Finally, a screech.
Then, a breaking jolt from the front wheel.

The vehicle stopped but he did not.

Banquo flew, arm outstretched, over the handlebars into the stoney ground. The circles stopped spinning and his joy melted away. Calm lingered,though  mixed with frustration at himself, as he inspected the damage. Knees only stained black, but arms grazed and dotted with red. And something dripped from near his eye. The sting suggested blood, but he couldn't tell.

Too busy unintentionally wiping dirty into his wounds, he did not notice the young girl silently approach him. "Are you hurt?" She looked cautious as she stepped towards his crumbled form, but the twinkle in her eye and tone of her voice could not be mistaken for anything other than kindness. "Do you need some help?" Still taken aback from the suddenness of it all Banquo said nothing, aside from the odd 'um' and 'uh'.

She offered him a hand. He held it firmly, trying not to sqeeze it tight, as it was delicate instead his own. They stood beside one another. He smiled - perhaps trying to put on a brave face - and focussed on holding his wright on the side of body that didn't ache.

"Eat this!" Excitement bubbled into the air as she presented a lollypop that shined sunshine yellow from the pockets of her trousers - which were considerably cleaner than his own. "I'm sure it will make you feel much better."

A smile, wider than a could fake, spread onto Banquo's face. Food could be scarce in these streets - especially that of the candied variety. He felt bad taking it from her, but there was something in her face that made him think declining it would be more hurtful. With a curt and bright 'thank you' he unwrapped the pop and felt the warm sweetness on his tongue.

"Are you here by yourself?" Banquo asked, looking from the girl to their surroundings. "It's getting too late to be around the fence."

As soon as the words had rolled from Banquo’s tongue, he felt a twinge of something akin to regret. Not quite. Though his concern for the girl sounded more like an adult talking to a child, and though she was younger, she was no child. Despite his worrying she didn’t seem to mind. She watched him sucking at the lollypop, as if surveying him, then suddenly turned away.

All the while her smile never faded. That, more than the fruity sweetness on his tongue, lifted his spirits.

As soon as she looked away he cast his own eyes over her. He couldn’t put a name to her soft, freckled face, but it definitely seemed familiar. But he wasn’t good with recognition. Her small nose and fluttering ginger hair wasn’t quite unique, but certainly not characteristic of many people living in the district. Perhaps he had seen her walking about town, or at school. Or maybe he passed by her house on the way to the factory.

However, as the girl pondered her answer, he thought that he was justified in his worry. Her smile didn’t faulter but her eyes flickered as she thought.

“...I’m not here by myself, because I have met you.”

Hmm, Banquo thought, a answer that nicely avoids the question. She did confess to being lost and when she asked him for help, how could he refuse. He nodded as she rambled on with a giggling tone.

“...it would be wise to wash yourself, because you’re rather dirty.” She declared. “Take a look!” Before his eyes, in a small reflective circle, a dirty version of him stared back. Banquo wrinkled his nose in disgust-- though, he did not in truth look very disgusted. He dubbed his fingertips against his bloody brow carefully.

He truly looked a state. What must she think of him? More mature people would have fled after seeing him lying with an appearance so menacing. One could describe it as ‘tribute-like’ though the thought didn’t enter his own mind. In any case, he was surprised that she had come to help.

Not only was she helping, she was laughing.

“Something funny?” His words came out more harshly than intended; more threatening than jokingly. To redeem himself he wiped a clumps of mud from his face and drew a thick black line across her pale forehead.

Among the laughter, he picked his bike from the puddle and leant on it as they slowly made their way back up the hill towards town.

445 words - will edit with proper coding at some point

288 words - sorry this is bad AND late! i'm hungover...