Niah didn't cry out when she fell. To do so would be crass and uncouth and Brom would surely think she was a silly little girl. Instead, she sat where she'd connected with the grass and looked down at herself. Green stained her knees and palms, but the skin wasn't broken. Her right ankle was what hurt the most, and it was it which had tripped her up in the first place. Tears sprang to her eyes when she saw how it was already swelling up. She told herself it was from the pain, which wasn't inconsiderable, but really it was because of how ugly she knew it would be once it started to bruise.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">A fat, ugly ankle.</span>Nobody would want to look at that.<br/><br/>Irritably she kicked out at the root which she'd caught her foot in - using her good leg, of course. Then she quickly sniffed and wiped away her tears. Brom had been right behind her while she took her walk around the garden and would most probably come to see if she was alright after her fall. It was unbecoming for a servant to see her in such a state. Even as an awkward, gangling thirteen year old, Niah knew all about propriety. Embarrassed and out of her depth, she sat with her hands crossed in her lap and her legs stretched out in front of her, summer dress neatly arranged. She didn't dare try and get up. If she did it would surely hurt even more and what if she really started to bawl? No, it was definitely out of the question. She sighed and rubbed some of the dirt off her hands. It had been such a nice day, too. Bright and warm.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Damn root,</span>she seethed.<span style="font-style: italic">Damn tree.</span>