She came down behind the house, not into it. That was probably the only reason the place was still standing.

The backyard was in rough shape after the crash. The fence had bowed outward, boards split and half-buried in churned soil. The grass was scorched in a circle, blackened and steaming faintly.

A girl lay near the center of it.

She had landed hard, that much was obvious. She was propped awkwardly against a fragment of wreckage that no longer resembled anything functional, one knee drawn up, the other stretched too straight to be comfortable. Her breathing was slow, but air was still reaching her lungs nonetheless. One hand rested against her side, assessing the damage to her body.

She paused as she heard movement from behind her. Firefly did not lift her head right away, instead, she focused on breathing. In, out.

When she did look up, she found herself staring at a stranger standing at the edge of the crater. A human. The backyard owner, most likely.

Firefly squinted slightly against the light. “Ah, please don’t panic!” She bowed her head apologetically. “I didn’t mean to land in your yard.”

She let out a breath and shifted, then immediately regretted it as pain flared hot and sharp along her ribs. Firefly inhaled slowly through her nose, then exhaled, as if she could convince the pain to behave if she acknowledged it politely. Of course, It didn’t work like that. She pressed her palm more firmly to her side, fingers splaying just enough to feel the tremor there.

“I won’t stay here long,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “I’ll make up for the damage I’ve caused.”