Heron Lake Plateau We might fall in love- or fall apart

Well, what happened next was partially what he intended but it fucking hurt, and it wasn't until the dust settled that Screech realized the amount of stupid that had gone in to the move. He hadn't the time to consider a possible alternative, but that didn't excuse the destruction he'd left in the end. Sure, Niamh had missed running headlong in to the brambles — but instead she'd run straight in to him and had been laid out cold.

It took a little bit for Screech to realize this, though. He felt the contact of their thick skulls colliding and the resulting concussion was immediate; everything was whooshing around him and he was staggering around, dizzy and confused and feeling absolutely sick. No doubt the pain would be creeping down his neck and knot up in his shoulders at some point, but for now it was his head, his jaw, and his ego that felt totally incapacitated.

Then, as he was stumbling about, he felt his paws catch on something in the grass and he went tumbling — landing squarely atop Niamh who was, so far, still alive but not exactly awake. If he had any sense at all he would've gotten up on the double, but Screech was just as disoriented as the sleeping girl — not quite enough to pass out like she did, but she'd taken a major tumble and he'd only met a glancing blow to the noggin.

Either way, he wasn't getting up anytime soon.