There were days when she really hated men. All of them, each and every gods-forsaken one of them. As much as she knew it wasn't right or fair, the temptation was strong. As she sat on the ground, looking up at the disturbingly well-put-together man she'd just bounced off, Gwen decided that today was probably a day where she hated them all. Green eyes watched her victim, the latest casualty in the utter demise of her dignity as he turned to look at her.  He hadn't even wobbled a little, she realised. Trust her luck that she'd charged into a mountain. Gwen's eyes narrowed as she thought, for just a moment, that he was about to laugh. In fairness, she couldn't blame him if he did, but still.<br/><br/>He didn't laugh, though. Rather, strong hands wrapped around hers and he pulled her up. There was a strength in his grasp which Gwen couldn't help but notice, and yet he was beyond gentle as he lifted her; she was on her feet before she really noticed. As he let go of her hands, Gwen started to brush the mess off herself, brushing herself down and suddenly acutely aware that her hair was loose and probably messy and she hadn't had time -- or inclination -- to put any make-up on.<br/><br/>When he held out his hand, Gwen immediately took it and shook. Her face, tilted up to look at his, held a slight smile.<i> "Gwen Whitmore. That was my son, Toby."</i>With an apparently entirely straight face, she added, "<i>you may have heard him?"</i>Gwen had a dry sense of humour and she was well aware of just what had occurred.<i> "He's starting here today, too, but he's in first grade. We just moved here."</i>They'd had to, but she didn't say anything about that. It wasn't really worth discussing.<i> "I've heard good things, though. And the other parents seem...."</i>Gwen gave a sort of half-hearted gesture and then shrugged.<i> "I couldn't really tell, if I'm honest, around the screaming from him and the judgemental glares. But, that's human nature."</i>She didn't dwell on it, though, she looked back at the gate as they walked towards the car park.<i>"How did Rosalie manage going in for her first day? Was she alright?" </i>Did he know the other parents, she wondered. Did he have a good support network? She imagined that he probably did; he was probably part of an elite group of super-parents who got 'choppered in' when rambunctious hellspawn had tantrums in the playground.  Looking around, she saw that the car park had more or less emptied.<i> "Well, I've got a lot of boxes to unpack, and a date with some self-assembly furniture."</i>Gwen shot him a chipper grin.<i> "I'm sorry I charged into you, Elijah Primeau. Thank you for not laughing at me."</i><br/><br/>With an almost-shy expression, she gestured to her old, but well cared for and reliable, Ford. Like Gwen's attire, should he notice such things, it was older than most people would continue to use, but clean and obviously looked after. On the passenger seat there were CDs - Audio Books, and some newly-bought tools. Nothing fancy, and all very much on the value side of purchases, the back seat -- or at least the part of it where Toby's seat was not -- there were collapsed boxes and a bag of what seemed to be old, scrunched up newspapers.<i> "I don't suppose you know where there's a recycling point nearby?"</i>She figured that it would do no harm to ask.<i> "I did some unpacking last night, once I'd gotten him to bed, so I figure if there's one close by, I can drop off there before I learn the differences which exist, apparently, between types of screwdriver? Who knew?"</i>If it was too far away, though, she wouldn't bother. Either way, she offered her hand again.<i> "It's been a pleasure. I'll see you at pickup?"</i>