Suddenly, Amy was aware that she wasn’t so alone in the giant tent. When she heard another voice her gaze immediately snapped to the other person. She hadn’t met him and wasn’t able to attach a name to the face but she recognized him as being a medic. Though she’d never really spoken to him she had seen him around. It was a little bit of a relief that he was nice about the situation and as soon as the surprise of not being as alone as she’d previously thought she’d been faded she relaxed a little.
“Maybe. After they were done laughing at my little spill. Maybe I missed my calling as a clown.” She smiled a little and stood back up, brushing the dust from her dress and taking in the damage. It wasn’t that bad, truthfully. The only major injury she’d suffered was a bruise to her ego. Her stockings had spared her knees a scraping, though they would need to be cleaned up a little before she performed in them again.
“All blows to my pride aside, I think I’m okay. I’m usually better on my feet.” Amy looked down for a second, examining the ground to see what exactly had tripped her up. She frowned when all she could spot was a slight unevenness. Sighing, she looked back up to him. “Thank you for the concern, though. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Amy.”