Peaches blinked, her whole body sore. Snow covered the landscape surrounding her, with patches of grass shooting out here and there. Someone groaned.
"Sorry!" she cried, forcing herself to get up. When the dizziness in her head cleared, she looked down to see a frazzled looking creature dusting itself off.
"It's okay," Peaches immediately noticed three things upon hearing his voice. A) it was a him, B) he was stifling a groan, so he was obviously not okay, and C) he was a weasel, which she didn't realize from his voice...But she looked at him when he spoke.
"No it's not."
She was startled by his blue eyes when he looked up at her. Fierce, sharp, and annoyed. If she weren't a mammoth, she might have blushed. The smaller creature rolled his eyes.
"And jus' what would you know about it? Ever been hit by a flying mammoth? No? I didn' think so," the weasel's voice dripped with British-accented sarcasm. Peaches could practically see it oozing from his mouth. Peaches took this as her cue to roll her own eyes.
"I highly doubt you've ever been hit by a flying mammoth," she said with equal sarcasm. That's when it struck her. "Oh."
He gave her a pointed look. "Yeah. Pray tell, what were ya doin' up there, preyin' on innocent lads such as myself?"
Peaches blushed. "I wasn't preying on you, and I wasn't flying. I just...fell."
"Right. Just fell. Out of the sky." Suddenly he stood up and grinned. In a mock weather reporter voice, he cried, "Cloudy, with a high chance of scattered storms. Watch out for those wooly mammoths!" He turned to her again, a look of pure innocence on his face. "Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"
She gawked at him for a second. He grinned devilishly.
"Because your face pretty f_'d up."
Peaches gasped and glared at him, trying to formulate an answer to this that wouldn't make her seem like a total geek. She noticed his fur was scruffy and not the cleanest. While this could have been attributed to the whole falling-mammoth thing, she got the feeling this fellow wasn't exactly a "good boy."
"Excuse yourself!" came a feminine, similarly accented voice from the trees to her left. Good. Now she didn't have to answer. "Buckminster, you, you fiend! It's no wonder they call you a street rat, the way you talk!"
The weasel rolled his eyes. "Ah, Melody, we've been through this before! Don't act like you talk like a bar o' soap." To Peaches, he said, "You know I didn't mean it right? I was kiddin'. You're face is fine. Friends?" He gave her a hopeful look. Something about this situation told her she'd better take any friendship she could get her hands on. Besides, he looked so hopeful, like he didn't get friends often. Still somewhat dazed from her fall, she gave him a small smile.
"There. All better. Now, where were we? Ah yes, falling from the heavens. Seriously, why? Why me? You think I don't have anything better to do with my life? That because I currently can't pay for college (which is fine, I've got myself a good 2 years before that's a problem) and I work for minimum wage I don't have places to be? People to see? A family to feed?" Buckminster (as Peaches guessed his name was) sighed melodramatically, laying a paw across his forehead.
'Melody' rolled her eyes. "Sorry 'bout him," she motioned to the boy," he's a bit of a dramatic pain. Anyways, I'm Melody, this is my brother, Buck, and you are...?"
"Peaches," she said uncertainly. Buck grinned.
"What, don't you know yer own name?"
"I do," she said angrily. To her self, she thought, 'And I think I know you, too.' But that's impossible, right? Mammoths can't fly AND time travel...?