Getting all tangled up in some other girl's skirts was not how Charley wanted to go out. She would rather her death to be from something like a heroic leap from a rooftop, or perhaps a slide under a portcullis in an old-fashioned castle. Something daring, she figured, that people would remember her fondly by. Not tripped by a little girl and choking on pollen, that would be too embarrassing to die over.

Once that was decided, all that was left for Charley was to get out of it.

Easier said than done. The street urchin kicked her legs, yanking them away from the clinging material of Tiger Lily's skirts. If she would only stop screaming and coughing so much. Charley was finding it hard to concentrate with all the noise in her ears and pollen in her throat. It still clouded her view as well, though if she squinted, the urchin was almost certain she could make out the shimmering clearness of air some feet ahead.

Charley cursed whatever woman that had put girls in skirts. That was too much fabric for anyone, why couldn't they just wear britches like sensible children? Should anyone ask, Charley would gladly tell them how much more sensible boys were than girls, she just needed some air first. Grabbing some purchase on Tiger Lily, Charley dragged the girl along as she crawled. If they weren't going to untangle, then she was bringing the flower girl with.

She coughed and sputtered as, eventually, the urchin managed to crawl into thinner air. Without the cloying, clinging pollen at her lips, Charley drew in a half-gasped drink of real air. Her face touched the floor, open-mouthed like a fish out of water. Just breathing and breathing and breathing. It felt good to breathe.

It felt good to be alive.

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