It just so happened that, as Guinevere turned towards her initial destination, she did so right into the path of another student. The collision was a modest one; Not only because neither girl involved had any real mass, but because the latter, and arguably responsible, party quickly caught the former before either of them could take a spill.
"Woooooah there~" She said, laughter and surprise marked in her voice. And what a voice it was. Sharp and shrill, it hit several pitches which would have made a dog's eyes water in just the scant couple of syllables it had spoken. "Jeeze, ya gave me a fright, turning around like that." said the girl, for her voice, nauseatingly pitched as it was, was unmistakably feminine. Hands, wrapped in tightly wound bandage, gently disengaged from Guinevere's upper arms, and their owner pulled carefully away, each step accompanied by the quiet whisper of electric motors. A pair of emerald eyes, bright and round, peered up at Guinevere, for their owner was nearly five inches shorter, from out of a naturally pale face, presently flushed with excitement. 
"Ahah~" the emerald eyed imp exclaimed when she got a good look at Guin's face. Her smile, already wide, contrived to grow several degrees wider and, as a direct result, brought her dangerously close to unhinging her jaw. It was the sort of smile which bespoke either the utmost pleasure, or the impending intention to swallow somebody's head in a single bite. "It is you. I thought it was~"

With a bit of space between them now, the smaller girl was revealed to be just a little under five feet tall, though a slouching posture made gauging her true height all but impossible. She had radiant green eyes and a smile with entirely too many teeth in it, though by far her most apparent feature was the offensively bright shock of orange hair which ornamented her, otherwise bald, head in a comb nearly a foot in length. Stood half hunched the way she was, it was hard to judge her age or gender, and such efforts were only further confounded by the most uncommon articles of clothing which she wore. Her leggings and shoes, sensible cargo and heavy steel-cap boots respectively, both looked normal enough, save for the fact that each seemed to be a couple sizes too large for the girl wearing them. Conversely, her hoodie was another story entirely. Though it was also a few sizes larger than necessary, as well as the same shade of eye-gouging orange as her hair, it was its state of absolute disrepair which made it remarkable. If someone had taken a hoodie of similar make, though preferably less offensive coloring, and subjected it to the indelicate attentions of a chainsaw, flechette gun, hand grenade, and several angry monkeys with combat knifes taped to their hands, the result still wouldn't have been as ratty and threadbare as the egregious fashion disaster which the girl was wearing. Matters were only made worse as, seemingly out of some desire to make the hoodie look less like an orange dish rag someone had used for target practice, its owner had tried to cover the worst of the wear with the liberal application of what, on closer inspection, proved to be black electrical tape.

"My name's Aegle~" The bizarre convalescence of awful fashion choices and even worse volume control proudly declared, pronouncing the name 'Eh-Glee', "S'a pleasure to meetcha!" and at this, rather than extend her hand to shake Guinevere's, the orange haired girl favored her with a mock salute. She did so using a hand which had been tightly bound in bandages, starting at the second knuckle on each finger and extending until disappearing up her taped up sleeve. 
"You're Lily's new friend, ain'tcha?"

It would have been accurate to say that things were not going to plan, excepting that Aegle hadn't really had a plan to begin with. She'd merely seen someone she thought she recognized, someone whom she was curious about and, for better or worse, wanted to get to know, and had gone after her. No plan had been involved at any stage of this process, and Aegle was simply content to let whatever might happen, happen. Bumping into Guinevere had simply been the result of Aegle getting impetuously close without stopping to think what might happen if the other girl turned suddenly in her direction, and the actual collision had been a wholly unintended result. Grabbing Guinevere, too, had been nothing more than an instantaneous reaction to the situation as it unfolded. There had been no thought more complicated than half realized concern that she might have knocked the taller girl from her feet, and the visceral desire to prevent that from happening.

Nothing in Aegle's limited experience could have prepared her for what happened as a result of such innocent actions. 

The smell of some sort of industrial cleaner, diluted just enough to no longer be caustic to bare skin, stinging her nose. Something cold on her chest; Something thin, long and inflexible in her arm. Her head aches, and the world around her seems to swim. She tries to open her eyes, to will some life back into her body, though she doesn't yet know where she is. Slowly, she remembers how to work her eyes, and light comes rushing in. She winces and cries out in confusion and discomfort, yet barely makes a sound. Something looms over her, and she realizes she's lying down. 
"Shh... It's okay." A familiar voice says, but that doesn't help her confusion. 
"What?" She tries to say, her voice hoarse, her throat raw, as if something had been forced down it.
"Your heart, sweetie..." The voice says, and then she understands.

"My heart?" Gasping softly, Aegle stepped back from the taller girl, her face pale face sallow and drain. She didn't recoil, but neither did she resist Guinevere's shove, which usually wouldn't have been enough to dissuade her. Confusion crossed her face, while goosebumps rose on her concealed skin, and a quiet almost guttural sound escaped her lips. Slowly, understanding of where she was and what she was doing returned, and she remembered that she could move. Whirring quietly as countless tiny motors whispered under her clothes, she reached up and touched the inside of her left elbow, as if she'd expected something to be there. She found nothing, however. After a moment, she realized that someone was talking to her. Shouting at her, in fact. Swallowing, Aegle tried to work some moisture back into her mouth, and refocused her dazed attention on the girl yelling at her.
"What the hell do you think you’re doing?!" The girl, only a little taller than Aegle was, shouted down at her. 
"S'you..." Aegle said back, slurring slightly, as if trying to remember how to speak, not hearing the whispers from those watching. "Thought t'was..." 
"What did she do to her?" Asked someone in the crowd, his attention drawn when he sensed the expression of Guin's aura.
"I dunno..." another girl, who'd been watching since the very start, answered in a hushed tone.
Reaching up, Aegle mashed her cheek under the heel of her palm, as if that might drive out the cobwebs gumming up her brain. She felt sick and disorientated and, moreover, she felt small and helpless. Like she was trapped in a tiny box, trapping her on all sides and it made her feel like crying. It was not something she was used to feeling, and she hadn't felt that way in a very long time. Stubbornness, more than anything, kept her from succumbing to those remembered emotions and impressions, and stubbornness forced them from the fore of her mind, to be shoved deep down in the dark hole they'd risen out of.
"Aegle..." She said, looking at Guinevere but barely able to focus on her. Now that she could remember what she was doing, she tried to pick back up where she'd left off. No part of her stopped to ask what had happened or who might be responsible. Both questions were far too complicated for her upended mental faculties, dull at the best of times, to tackle at that precise moment. Better to do the things she could do than muddle about trying to do something she couldn't. "S'pleasure t'meetcha."
A quiet murmur rose among the gathered on lookers, many of whom were as puzzled by this development as they were shocked by what had proceeded it. Unlike Aegle, many of them had felt the sudden surge in aura, or seen the red tethers and had latched onto the orange haired girl's fingers. None of them had any doubts as to who had been responsible for whatever fugue had gripped the smaller girl, whom many of them took to be quite bit younger than Guinevere. Given that perceived difference in age, combined with a posture which might be taken for cringing on Aegle's part, the conclusions were drawn rather quickly.
"Leave her alone!" Some, junior with frosted black hair said from one side.
"Yeah!" A red haired sophomore ascended from nearby. More cries of 'Yeah' and 'Leave her alone!' and 'Bully' joined them, until it seemed like the whole courtyard's attention had come to rest on the two diminutive girls, one of whom was very confused as to what was going on. 

Raising her head slightly, Aegle regarded the rising cries with naked credulity. Things had certainly become no clearer for her since Guinevere had pushed away from her. Looking between Guinevere, whose whole pose belied her readiness to fight, and the small but incited crowd, she reached the only possible conclusion.
"It were an accident." She told them, trying to assuage their outrage, "I were just tryin' to keep her from fallin' down!"
This bit of information, naturally enough, was not met with the intended reaction.
"Yeah!" Someone from behind Aegle said, a bleach blonde freshman in a black shirt, as he stepped up behind her. "It was an accident!" Bizarrely, at least from Aegle's point of view, he seemed to be directing this fierce invective at Guinevere. Puzzlement was rapidly giving way to utter confusion, which was not an emotion which Aegle handle well. 
"What'ya shoutin' at her for?" She asked, half turning, and there was at least enough threat her posture and tone to make the blonde haired freshman shy back a step. This, at least, had the welcome result of shutting down the remaining shouts and calls, not that Aegle noticed.
"I'm the one who smacked into her." Aegle firmly told the freshman, and anyone else who was listening, "And I grabbed her too. But I weren't bein' a bully! I was just tryin' to keep her from fallin' down!"

It was about this point that, within the loose knot of students, some of the wiser or more half-hearted members began to wonder if this were really something to get involved in. In silent unison, a small handful seemed to decide it really wasn't any of their business, and discretely disengaged. Among their number was the junior who'd originally started the chant, who just so happened to involve a very pressing engagement elsewhere on campus.
"Now quit yer shoutin'!" Aegle shouted, "And if yer gonna fight, then fight. And if y'aint gonna fight, leave!" Judging that the situation had become to complicated to pick one side or another, several more students decided upon the latter option provided and, less discretely, made themselves scarce. Its cohesion broken, and seemingly at the behest of some unspoken signal, the desultory remains of the group dispersed, and Aegle slowly lowered her hands and uncurled her fists, which she had raised and curled at some indeterminate previous point. Watching the last of their audience depart, Aegle then turned to regard Guinevere, which she did with a broad and unruffled smile.
"Right." She said, "Where were we?"

Excluded from Guinevere's inner monologue, Aegle had no way of knowing the sort of existential crisis which was broiling just beneath the surface of the girl before her. Naturally, she had her own existential crisis which she could have been dealing with but, like everything else which Aegle didn't see as particularly urgent, all thoughts in that particular direction had been forestalled. This was not some incredible feat of self control either, nor was Aegle so self possessed as to dictate exactly which directions her trains of thought ran in. It was more that Aegle only had the one train and, as such, was pretty much dedicated to whatever line she was running at the time. And that line was the unusual girl in front of her.

"I think you were telling me your name." the familiar stranger said, immediately garnering another broad smile from the irrepressible youth.
"Was I?" She asked with genuine wonder, her emerald eyes dancing as she thought about it. When her limited intellectual capabilities proved unequal to the task, however, she just offered an absent shrug and accepted that Guinevere probably knew what she'd been doing better than she did anyway.
"Name's Aegle~" She said, in what would have been a very pleasant fashion were it not for the fact that her voice was just an octave under inaudible to the human ear. Again, she pronounced her name 'Eh-Glee', identifying that her fashion sense wasn't the only odd thing about her. "S'a pleasure to meetcha!"
Then, wholly without fear or reservation, she offered her hand over to Guinevere, which raised a question which had only two, maybe three, possible answers. The question was whether or not she actually understood that it had been touching Guin which had caused that unpleasant vision in the first place. Either she didn't, which was a remarkable display of ignorance even for someone who clearly hadn't that many braincells to rub together; She did and knew it wasn't going to happen again; Or she did and she wasn't afraid of it happening again. Any one of which raised rather more questions about the character of the bizarre, orange combed girl arranged before Guin like an overly enthusiastic scarecrow.

For anyone wondering, it was complete and blithe ignorance which allowed Aegle to outstretch her hand towards Guin, whose touch had caused her hallucination. That being said, had Aegle actually known it was touching the taller girl which had caused her to vividly relive one of the most traumatic events in her troubled life, she still probably would have offered her hand for a shake. The reasons for this were two-fold. One was a simple matter of trust. Believing all people were inherently good and nice and polite, Aegle would have simply assumed that Guin would not force her to relive another horrible memory. The other reason was simply that, allowing that Guin couldn't help inspiring haunting flashbacks, it would be mean and rude to hold that against her.

However, all of that is quite moot because, as mentioned previously, it was Aegle's complete lack of situational perception and not her good-natured but ultimately naive innocence which made her want to shake Guin's hand.

"You're Lily's new friend, huh?"

When Guinevere showed her hand and, simultaneously, her aura to Aegle, there was no profound reaction or moment of recognition. Rather, the orange haired girl regarded the pulsing flashes of energy, racing across Guin's skin, with only polite, if indifferent, interest. She did lower her own hand though, which she stuffed into the big center pouch of her hoodie, which had evidently escaped the worst of whatever catastrophe had befallen the hard done by garment. The question 'Why not?' still started to form on her lips, despite the taller girl's brief demonstration and terse words, but she was cut off when Guinevere explained the exact relationship she'd cultivated with Lily.
"Dust Roses?" The smaller girl said instead, her interest plainly piqued. With the whispering whirring of hidden machinery, Aegle swayed closer to Guinevere and scrutinized the taller girl, as if the answer to her implied question might be present somewhere on Guin's person. Even if that were the case, however, Aegle's perceptive powers weren't up to the task of finding it and, even had they been, she was unlikely to recognize it if they did. Then, quick as a whip crack, and with nearly as much audible flare, Aegle's attention shifted again. 
"Guinevere?" She repeated with more the usual feigned interest, almost as if she were trying to commit the name to memory. Given here previously displayed mental acumen, that was no small undertaking. 
"Ain't never met no one named Guinevere before." Aegle remarked, renewing her interrogative inspection, as if learning the taller girl's name had given her something else to look for. That wasn't really the case, but learning Guin's name had reminded her just how curious she had been and still was about the stranger. 

Being that she was a little shorter than Guinevere, and her chronically bad posture only exacerbated this point, Aegle was in a position few others were when they talked to the auburn haired girl. That being that Aegle was better poised to see what lay beneath Guin's bangs than most. The one lively, vaguely hunted green eye she found was only to be expected, but it was the other which caught Aegle's interest. Not in the way that any more observant student's interest would be, for just about anyone else would have seen the muted coloring, glassy sheen and, most telling, faded scars and immediately realized what they were looking at. Aegle, conversely, saw enough to know something was slightly off but not enough to guess what it might be. The truth was that she could have looked at Guin's eye for a month straight and never guessed the true reason for its aberrant appearance. That didn't stop her from staring, however. Not at the eye, naturally, but at the suggestion of scarring around it. 

It was about this point that Aegle's open curiosity crossed the line from 'staring just a little too much' and right into 'invasion of personal space and privacy'. Letting out a low whistle, she reached up with one thickly bandaged hand to brush aside Guinevere's bangs so that she could get a better look.
"That must'a hurt." She remarked blithely. She wasn't going out of her way to make contact with Guin's skin, but a jerk in the wrong direction, like that of a girl jerking away from a hand creeping into her blind-spot, did not preclude the possibility of it.
"What did that then?"