2022-03-12 - Jogging is Dangerous!

The weather's still not really showing signs of spring, but it's March, and that means there's at least hope that it will do. Maybe that's what brings Una to Addington Park on a not-super-unpleasant Friday afternoon, dressed in jogging gear and an expression that suggests this is not her preferred way to spend an hour (or less). The redhead pauses near a bench to retie her shoe lace, then half-heartedly launches into what could charitably be called a jog, and uncharitably a fast walk.

This stinks.

Zane, meanwhile, is dressed similarly, but seems to be enjoying his time a bit more. He sprints a bit, then does some light jogging, sprints a bit, then does some light jogging. At one point, he takes a moment to do some pull-ups on a tree. Panting as he approaches a bench, Zane bounces back and forth between his feet, cooling down a bit in the cold temperatures. He takes off his backpack while bouncing and pulls out a thermos, stopping his cardio cooldown just barely enough so he can drink and take in the scenery.

Una is not 'the scenery', but she's in the scenery, making her desultory way down the path in the opposite direction. It's almost-definitely-not-deliberate, the way she stumbles over her own ankle a few yards away from Zane and his bench, sending herself flying onto the asphalt, arms and legs akimbo.

"Ow," she says, face muffled by the pavement.

"Woah," Zane says as she tumbles. He moves immediately to help her up, cooling down less important than making sure this other person was okay. "You alright?"

"Ow," repeats Una, attempting to shift herself off the ground-- or at least so that she's not flat on the pavement. On the plus side, her face is unmarked, though her knees are definitely going to be carrying reminders for a day or two, not to mention the ankle she's tripped over.

She pauses, gaze lifting towards Zane. Her brows furrow in faint (very faint) recognition.

The muscle-bound gentleman first helps Una up, then walks her through a few exercises while she sits on the bench. "Doesn't seem like a sprain," he says. "Twists can still be bad, though. Did you drive to the park, or did you jog or walk here?"

Una doesn't resist Zane's assistance, though her expression remains a little dubious. From the bench, she rubs at her knee, wincing, though it certainly doesn't seem like she's too badly injured. "I rode my bike," she admits. "Which was dumb. Maybe I can walk it home? It's not that far."

That's probably a lie.

"I met you at the coffee shop the other day, didn't I? Z-something? With the sister and niece?"

"Okay," Zane says, "maybe that could work, but I'd feel much more comfortable if you'd let me walk your bike while you ride it." He hasn't touched her since helping her up, and he says, "I really don't want you to get hurt farther."

Una makes a face, still rubbing at her knee. "No, that'd be weird," she says. "I can just get an Uber, would that be okay? I'm sure the bike can go in the back somehow, and it'll be fine."

Beat. "Really. I'm fine."

"If that's what you want," Zane says, taking a step back. "Just want to make sure you're safe."

Una makes a face. "I just... it's fine. Thank you, for helping me. I'm clearly," a laugh, then, wry and made with a huff of air that suggest embarrassment, "not very good at this. But people do keep reminding me I ought to take better care of myself..."

"Good advice," Zane says. "Well, I'll let you be," he says, going back to jogging in place. "I need to finish cooling down and get back home. Have a great day, okay?"

Una opens her mouth, then closes it again. A pause. "Sure," she says. "Thanks for the help. You too!"

Don't mind her, while she stays here for a good while longer, still rubbing at her knee, before she's ready and able to hobble away.

Zane smiles politely and waves at her even as he's jogging away. "Thank you," he says.