This was not how Astrid's morning was supposed to go. Rory proposing to her mother at her late grandfather Charles' wake was insanity enough, so much so that Astrid had fled the scene on two wheels just to get away from all of that.

Because seriously, where do men find the audacity?

Now, in her whirlwind of frustrations and grievences she might not have been fully focused on the road, sure — but she wasn't supposed to have veered off the street on her bike, or down the sidewalk, and she most definitely was not supposed to have crashed through a fence and smacked her noggin right on the trunk of your treehouse.

Yet here she is, with you scrambling down in concern and her knit dress looking a little more ripped and frayed than its original style intended.

"Sorry about your fence," She mumbles, standing up and dusting herself off as you pick up her bike, suddenly very aware of the Astrid-and-her-bike shaped hole in your tall wooden fence. "You can tell your parents my mom will pay for it." She glances up at you and swallows.

Her hair is now adorned with autumn colored leaves, a twig, and she's looking up at you with a look that just screams if you laugh, I will hurt you. She is well aware she looks like a freak right now, but you know what? You try smacking your forehead on the trunk of a tree going fifteen miles per hour down a hill on a bike.

You'd be bristling too. Literally.