She must have laid there for hours, and actually, some of it was peaceful. Charley didn't often take the chance to look up and watch the day pass, the birds flying and the clouds floating by. Maybe they, too, were stunned about her predicament, slowing down to watch her as they passed overhead. She was pretty stunned herself, an urchin girl like her was better at keeping her feet underneath than all splayed out like she was.

That was a better way to meet people, too, rather than on the ground with a face obstructing the sky.

It was a pretty face, if Charley was honest with herself, and that sort of thing sometimes scared her. Especially as the woman might have been mistaken for a statue. She was carved from porcelain, or near enough, because her skin was a pale tone that even Charley had never been able to keep under a Scottish sun. What shook her the most was that the woman's hair was a bright and fiery color, and it gave the urchin the barest taste of envy for keeping hair that pretty looking so fine.

"I en't much of a lady," Charley returned, almost wrinkling her nose at the suggestion. She couldn't, try as she might, not in the face of the splendor looking her over. If the woman was a butterbeer or a sack of galleons, Charley couldn't have been more gobstruck than she was now. "Not really."

That moment passed quickly, and then as the birds winged away and the clouds floated on, the urchin tried to get herself up. Her arms felt alright, after she freed the one pinned underneath her, but her hip smarted sharply when she tried to move it. Her voice made it clear just how much of a shock that was. She really did like her feet underneath her, and her hips did a thankless job to make that happen.

"Reckon I'll be doin' that, actually, 'cause I en't goin' nowhere right now." Charley said sourly, leaning back to rest against the ground again. She hadn't gotten far at all. Her eyes glanced around, spotting the edge of her cap poking out from underneath some debris nearby. Something that must have given way underneath the urchin as she was leaping to the next roof, and landed just right to keep her cap far enough away to reach. Not until her sore hip was mended that is. "Wasn't s'posed ta be all the way down here, y'know? Musta stepped on a wrong shingle or summat, coulda happened to anyone!"

Excepting her, because she never fell. Not ever since she was a little girl climbing on trees with her brother. Or when little girls pushed her out of trees, and gave her a bruise to last a week. But Charley didn't like to think much of that day, some of those were better forgotten than remembered.

"Gotta be grateful for solid roof under yer boots, I say." Charley kept talking, it felt better than focusing on the sprawling hurt creeping up her side. If she had broken a bone, this mishap was going to be even more embarrassing. Her face succumbed to a wince as she added, "An' for sturdy hips."

---