VIKTOR
I must be getting older, because I cannot come off the ice without a chink or a cramp or some sort of pain in some part of my body. Today it's a muscle in my shoulder, so I pull off my jersey and pads as I walk down the tunnel, ready for the soothing hands of one of our therapy people.
Of course, walking and undressing is as ill-advised as it sounds, because I collide squarely into another human. I hear an oof sound, and as I pull the remainder of fabric over my head, I see Scarlett from earlier, on the ground glaring up at me.
"I am very sorry." Looking up, I see that I have walked several meters past the doorway to the locker room. "I must do better looking at where I am going."
I hold out a hand, which she takes, before standing and brushing off some imaginary dust or dirt from her jeans.