It was kind of the woman to acknowledge that it really wasn’t alright, but honestly, if Asha admitted that to everything that happened in his life he’d think himself no better than a cockroach. He’d find a way to make it work out. He always did.

Only a little bruised, that was a good thing. Perhaps the skirts that women always insisted on wearing had helped the fall. Before he could comment on this, however, she was instructing him to stay still. He did as a small hand touched his arm, he could only assume it was the woman. A moment later it appeared she had managed to right herself and he could feel her skirts brushing around him as she tried to clear the glass out of the area. “Thank you.” Asha felt odd having the woman take care of him, really it should be the other way around. He took a moment to draw the piece of glass out of his hand and push it toward where he thought her pile was. With a glass free sidewalk before him he pushed himself back to an upright position.

“Perhaps.” Asha agreed nonchalantly, deciding it better not to mention the fog nor his rather inability toward most magic in case she might find herself even more at fault. These things did tend to happen. Especially to him.