The ache in her knees didn't worry her half as much as seeing her poor, defenseless books lying in a nearby puddle of water. Lyra closed her eyes tight for a moment then let out a deep, deep breath before opening those bright blues again.
And then there was his hand, and his thick Irish accent hitting her ears and making her look up quick.
Oh
For a split second, Tristan's warm, shy countenance flashed in her mind. This man had a different sort of aura, a bright confident sort of aura. Lyra took his hand, just for a moment to stand and then dropped it quick so she could gather her books.
"Yes, just fine, can't say the same for my books though."