Bleddyn came flying out of the woods behind the Loson house, shooting off of the ledge that sloped down into the neighborhood's backyards as if her dirtbike were a skateboard and the terrain a skate park she frequented.
"YOU'LL NEVER SEE THAT TONIGHT I'M FREEEEEEEEEEEEE." She had quite the extreme mashup playing at ear-obliterating volumes, perfect to scream senselessly along with.
Her eyes were streaming, her guts reeling, but her spirits were high.
Soaring, actually. And she was pretty much overdue to crash.
As she swerved around into the front lawn, she slammed down hard on the brake to perform a smooth stop, complete with the minimal shredding of lawn.
Except, of course, the pedal she actually stomped on wasn't the brake.
Bleddyn accelerated herself straight into the neatly manicured bushes that lined the Loson's front walkway.
For a good while, she just sat there limply atop her snagged motorbike, brambles stabbing her at all angles.
Then she slowly pried herself free and stumbled drunkenly up to the front door. Voices penetrated their way outside with ease, forewarning her that she wasn't the Losons' only visitor.
Knocking nearly sent her stomach the same way of her bike into the landscape.