[ It had been a close thing, Fern righting herself. This stranger is not nearly so lucky, and as Fern slows her own motorcycle down to an eventual stop (she'd learned quickly that braking must be a gradual thing), all she can do is watch as the tragedy unfolds.
That terrible smell, like burning but somehow worse, fills her over-sensitive nostrils and causes her to cough. Nonetheless, she dismounts the motorcycle (remembering the kickstand, this time) and races over. Between the sparks, the awful odor, and what looks like a smear of blood left on the strange road (she has no idea what asphalt is), she doesn't even think to ignore the man's plight.
Thankfully, the road is not too crowded, meaning that she can run across without risking any danger to herself. She approaches the ditch, nose wrinkling as she tries to dislodge that smell. Her husky voice rings out. ]
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That terrible smell, like burning but somehow worse, fills her over-sensitive nostrils and causes her to cough. Nonetheless, she dismounts the motorcycle (remembering the kickstand, this time) and races over. Between the sparks, the awful odor, and what looks like a smear of blood left on the strange road (she has no idea what asphalt is), she doesn't even think to ignore the man's plight.
Thankfully, the road is not too crowded, meaning that she can run across without risking any danger to herself. She approaches the ditch, nose wrinkling as she tries to dislodge that smell. Her husky voice rings out. ]
... You all right?