"I've fallen further," Lyra said, starting to grin under the hanky in spite of the pain, using that pride in herself like a bit of a centre. This was much, much easier to talk about— nothing unsettling about hanging a hundred feet in the air, after all. Not comparatively. "And bounced harder. Nail gunned myself once! Barely even scarred. Maybe don't mention that to Jocelyn—" she bit her lips together over her grin, fully aware from what she knew of Jocelyn's friends that anything one of them knew about their kids or grandkids, all of them knew.
Jocelyn and jobs. Both such solid solid anchors in the real world and Lyra grabbed that anchor and let gravity do its thing. "—But yeah, windows. The taller the better. I love it. Not that it's a forever job but, s'been great for the summer. Do you know my grandma too?" she asked the other woman, Elle? L?