DL-W - Sinking Like a Sunset...

She's thinking about
The prince and Cinderella
And the outlaws and the hustlers
And the heroes that never seem to fall
It doesn't matter
It doesn't matter what
The outcome of the story is
Because in real life
I try to tell her
It's not like that at all....
   (Tom Cochrane, 'Sinking Like A Sunset'
    Mad Mad World, 1991)

------------------------------------------------------
Day Three, late afternoon after school

--> ((What's the Game))
***
With all that Corra had told her, Merissa had to stop in and thank the new
teacher, and to ask how she herself could aid in this miraculous change in
her son.  Then, as she promised both Oberon and Chrysthal, they would take a
picnic dinner and go for a ride to the top of the waterfall... and perhaps
have Th'rin and Tarv'renon join them there, as well.  She couldn't help but
smile as she thought of them all together -- as one family!

She headed over to the classroom just as the afternoon students were being
dismissed.  She waited patiently as Sarah spoke to all the parents and or
caregivers as the children left.  Then, when all was quiet, Merissa and
Oberon came into the classroom.

"Can we talk... while I help you straighten up?"  Merissa asked.  Her mind
already marveling at Sarah's approach to Oberon, who greeted her verbally
and then tapped his head with a grin.
***

Sarah dropped to a crouch to ruffle Oberon's hair. "Hi Oberon. Let's get you
some crayons and a book so you can colour while Mom and I talk."

'O-tay," piped Oberon with a gleeful grin, tapping his head again. She stood
up and led him to a table that hadn't been cleared yet and went back to
where Merissa was closing paint lids on the craft table for the afternoon
group.

"How, what did you do?" asked Merissa incredulously. "It's like he's a
completely different little boy."

Sarah shrugged. How to explain to Merissa that she knew how to handle Oberon
because she'd had a similar child already.

"A number of things are making a difference. First, being among his peers
has taken off a lot of the pressure to sound like a grown up when he talks.
Children who are telepathic often THINK like grown ups and become easily
frustrated when their physical vocabulary lags behind their mental one."
Sarah took a handful of brushes to the sink to wash them while Merissa put
the closed pots on a shelf.

Over the running water, the teacher continued, "The tapping is a constant
visual reminder that others do not hear his thoughts. When he mistakenly
tries to think at someone, we gently remind him that he must make sounds out
loud." Beaming a smile at the worried mother, she added, "The positive
reinforcement he gets from his peers and the instructors helps to encourage
the behaviour."

Merissa looked across the room at Oberon. "What can I do to help?" A slow
smile spread across her face. Her little one could finally communicate what
he needed to her. Nothing was more special than that.

"Tell Chrysthal that if she hears him thinking instead of talking, to remind
him that he must speak aloud to other people. Also, have her explain that
even when he is talking to a dragon, it is polite to speak aloud so the
rider can hear," she added, "Just to be on the safe side."

"When reading or playing with him, ask him what things are. Your son has an
astounding vocabulary for a child so young. Encourage him to use it, to
sound out the words he does not know." Sarah turned to watch Oberon along
with Merissa. "Involve him in conversations. Encourage him however you can."

Merissa reached out to gently touch Sarah's shoulder, tears touching her
eyes. "I'll do whatever I can. To hear him, you have no idea how special
that is."

Patting Merissa's hand reassuringly, she smiled. "Perhaps not, but perhaps I
do. This is why I chose this living."

Merissa patted away the tears with her free hand just as Oberon came
trotting over, waving a piece of paper.

"Mamamamama... dragon-bird," he said gleefully, shoving the paper at her for
her immediate attention. Sure enough, there on the paper, albeit rather
crude and in crayons, was a recognizeable sketch of the local bird called
the dragon-bird. Sarah smiled indulgently at him and nodded. "Very good.
What do dragon-birds eat?"

"F-owers?" tried the boy, slightly confused by the question. "Eat
f-l-owers?" He had some difficulty with the word, but remembered to sound
the letters the second time.

"Not quite, Oberon," Sarah explained, squatting down to his eye level.
"Dragon-birds drink the nectar in flowers."

Sarah pointed to a trumpet plant growing in one corner of the room. "Nectar
is a special liquid flowers make, like you have liquid inside of oranges.
The next time you see a dragon-bird, wait until he leaves and then take the
flower off. Just one."

Walking over to the plant, she took a single flower off to demonstrate with.
"Then if you pick the petals off very carefully to look at the middle,
you'll see where the flower-juice is." Sarah poked it with a finger, which
came away a little sticky, and showed to Oberon, who stared, fascinated.

"We call it nectar," she explained, "Try the word yourself."

"Ne-k-tarr," repeated Oberon shyly, looking up at Merissa for approval.
"Very good, Oberon. Nectar," his mom echoed, smiling hugely in awe at the
teaching process.

"Why don't you and Mama go find a flower and see?" suggested the teacher,
standing up to look at Merissa and grinning.

The Warrenlady never had a chance to object. She was laughing too hard as
Oberon grabbed her hand and ran for the door with her in tow, yelling "Mama,
mama, dragon-bird juice, nectar..." in a bemused little chant.

"Thank you, for everything," called Merissa as she disappeared into the
sunshine.

Sarah scrubbed at her face and chuckled to herself, throwing the flower in
the wastebasket and patting the offended plant comfortingly. "Now now, dear,
it was all in a good cause," she reassured it aloud with a smile.

--==--

Sarah closed the classroom door and headed out into the late afternoon
sunshine. Now that her day was done, she realized that she hadn't really
accomplished all that much since her arrival.

There were those beautiful falls to explore, and if she did it just right,
she could probably watch the sunset over the edge of the warren. She hadn't
had time for a sunset in years. It would be a nice rest.

And after a whole day chasing toddlers, she was famished.

The Dining Hall was blessedly quiet considering the time of day. She had
heard about a party the previous night but since falling asleep, hadn't
really noticed. Something about a wedding.

Strangely enough, she didn't understand why Warren people bothered to get
married. How much value could wedding vows have when at any time your
partner could be forced to sleep with someone else? That was something she
would have to consider for a while, but she decided that it was a relatively
small annoyance of culture shock in light of how well she'd been treated.

Sarah stared at the array of food along the meal line and finally settled on
a plate of fresh fruit and some half-sandwiches of varying flavours and
textures. Finally, she took a small wineskin and a glass. It had been a long
day.

As she turned to find a place to sit, she accidentally stumbled over the
feet of a woman behind her and just barely kept from spilling the contents
of both trays on the floor by dancing about considerably.

Once equilibrium had been regained, she looked at the other woman a bit
sheepishly and mumbled, "I'm so sorry, are you all right?"

The stranger cocked her head a bit to the side, swapped her tray to one hand
and tapped her ear.

With that, Sarah put the tray down on a nearby table so her hands were free
and carefully, if a bit slowly, signed to the woman, 'I'm sorry I startled
you, are you all right?'

The other woman's face went white as she nodded, carefully setting her tray
down and sitting at the table, indicating that Sarah should join her for a
moment. Once her hands were free, she replied, 'I'm fine. Just a bit off
balance right now. No harm done.'

Sarah slid in across from the other woman, nodded thoughtfully and popped a
melon ball into her mouth. 'I take it you don't run into many who know the
handspeech?'

'Unless I teach it to them, no - I usually just read lips,' replied the
stranger with a smile. Her eyes warred between nervous shyness and
curiosity. Finally the curiosity won out and she leaned forward, signing
eagerly. 'Your inflection is different. Where are you from?'

'Dunsbro,' signed Sarah back carefully. 'One of my peers taught me. My name
is Sarah Anderson. I'm the new teacher here. I do preschool.'

'I'm Eleanora,' replied the woman with a grin, 'rider of Cara. I'm the
Warren courier. Are you settling in all right?'

Sarah nodded thoughtfully. 'The people here have been unbelieveably kind,
actually. Far more so than I expected. My previous experience with riders
had been less than positive.'

Eleanora reached across and patted Sarah's arm in encouragement. 'They're
really all quite nice here. We're quite the family atmosphere in the warren.
You'll be fine.'

'Have you always been deaf?' asked Sarah gently, munching on an orange slice
and thinking of her conversation with Oberon earlier with a small smile.

Eleanora tucked a braid behind her ear, taking her hand back in a gentle
fluid motion. Something about the woman reminded Sarah of a deer - easily
spooked. Perhaps she didn't want to talk about it.

'No,' she signed, 'I could hear when I was very small. I got sick with
thrush fever and then I couldn't any more. We discovered that I can listen
through Cara, but it gives us both an awful headache.'

Giggling, Sarah nodded. 'I can well imagine, Eleanora. Dragon ears are a lot
bigger and more sensitive than ours are. That WOULD hurt a great deal.'

'This is nice, so few here I can talk to without having to write things down
for them or have the dragons relay information,' the slender deaf woman said
to Sarah. 'And sometimes i can't see lips because of the lights. Tinker said
he's going to make lights for outside so I can talk at night.' She grinned.

'I was planning to take this up to the falls to watch the sunset before I
tried to knock you over,' offered the teacher with a smile, standing up,
'Would you care to join me?'

Eleanora thought about it for a minute, then shook her head with a shy
smile. Sensing that the woman wasn't very sociable, Sarah nodded. Like a
small child, she would have to be coaxed to trust. Being deaf could mean a
lonely existence, so she made a point to get to know her.

'Very well. I will be here often after classes, I think. I'm sure we'll bump
into each other again when I have more time to talk...'

Both women laughed at the pun and Sarah turned to go, nodding respectfully
as she wrapped the fruit and sandwiches carefully, tucking them into pockets
in her shirt and loose trousers. Placing the tray down, she left the dining
hall, heading to the falls and the sound of pounding water.

==--==
((Whiteriver Falls))

The climb up had been easier than she expected until she got to the spot
wherre the falls started in earnest. The switchbacks and turns were
grueling, but finally she reached a ledge about twenty-five feet up wide
enough to sit on comfortably and stretch out. The rock had been worn smooth
by many others who had chosen this spot.

To her right was the Hatching Grounds, close enough to touch, trailing off
into the warren green in the distance. Dragons and people moved silently not
far below her in an intricate dance of life, and she smiled softly at the
simplicity of it as she began unrolling her dinner from her clothes.

Taking a sip from the wineskin, she turned left. The waterfall came straming
down mere feet from her, thundering past in wild fury. The spray dove in and
out of the sunlight in a kalidescope of rainbows, broken and reformed over
and over for her delight. She laughed at the easy flowing beauty of it and
reached a hand out to pull it through the spray, drinking again from the
dark wine she'd brought along for the trip.

In the distance, frayed by the curtain of coloured light, she could see the
bazarr tents, gradually growing larger and larger until her eyes trained on
the stables and an odd looking building next to the river just past the
swimming hole. Her eyes paused there for a long moment.

Close enough that she thought she could reach out and stroke her head, was a
familiar dragon. She knew it was a trick of the water, but she reached out
anyway. The greenish gray blue of her scales sparkled in the late afternoon
sun as she stood outside the odd little building.

Somehow she looked very out of place there when all the other dragons were
on the Green. Sarah nibbled a strawberry and watched the dragon pace
aimlessly behind the building. She knew the creature but couldn't quite
remember the name.

Out of the building came a young man with an axe and an armfull of tools.
Sarah watched him set everything down and begin carrying wood from behind
the building. The dragon seemed terribly amused by the whole process and
watched him go back and forth with great patience.

After a few minutes of this, he seemed satisfied and set the wood on top of
a huge metal block. Knowing it was impolite to stare, but knowing he
couldn't see from here, she rearranged herself to stretch across the ledge
to better watch. The mist touched her hair, curling it slightly, leaving her
shirt damp and clinging, but she paid little heed, amused by being able to
watch the scene below, hidden by the falls.

Hefting the axe, he turned to say something to the dragon. A lock of white
hair caught the sun like a beacon. Tinker. Tinker and Narshada. That's who
it was. That must be the smithy then, the strange building.

Some comments must have been exchanged between them, because suddenly Tinker
looked at the dragon with an expression that could only be described as
exasperation, put the axe down and ripped off his shirt over his head,
throwing it to one side in a rumpled heap.

Lifting the axe, he bent to the task of chopping wood. Sarah watched
mesmerized as he worked, the sunlight dancing in slow licks across the
muscles as they tightened and loosened. She knew something about this had to
be wrong, but she didn't care. He was beautiful. She had never suspected
under all those baggy clothes and stumbling shyness.

Several long moments passed watching Tinker until he stood and mopped his
brow with one forearm. Sweat had soaked his pants and they clung like a
second skin, showing every line of muscle in his powerful legs. As he turned
to Narshada again, the angle of the light changed enough that she could see
reflections from the river skimming his torso and flat abdomen like silver
fingers.

Sarah drank in the sight. She would never tell anyone, but right now she
would give anything to be that light reflected, stroking his body.
Swallowing hard, she popped a grape into her mouth and chuckled at herself
for being merely human after all and spellbound by an attractive man.

It had been a long time since she had been with anyone. A very long time.
Her body protested at her sensual thoughts, seeming to strain at the fabric
of her loose cotton pants and t-shirt, begging for release from the fabric,
now soaked by the runoff from the waterfall.

Narshada butted Tinker in the chest playfully and he stumbled, grabbing at
her neck to steady himself. Faintly, the sound of his laughter drifted up to
her. her throat caught at the sound and she smiled.

Stepping away from the dragon, he carried the wood back to the pile.
Watching him, her fingers itched to brush the bark from his skin, to stroke
the dirt and dust away. Finally, he turned to Narshada and picked up his
shirt, lock of white hair sparkling in the setting sun. Not bothering to put
it on, he walked back around to the front of the smithy, skin touched with
sweat from the exertion and flowing in the soft, fading light.

Released from the spell of his body, she sat up, blinking. Dear gods, what
was she thinking? That was Tinker, she hardly knew him. Shame on her. Hadn't
the poor boy seen enough, been through enough in the last fortnight without
being burdened with her thoughts?

Looking away, she caught the tail end of the sunset burning gold and red
over the cliff, sparking across the water in dying embers as she wiped the
water spray from her face and struggled to regain her composure and her
breath.

As the sun settled in the distance, she finished her meal in silence,
thinking about what she'd just seen. Slowly the moon began to tickle the
edge of the sky and she made a decision.

Mostly dry now except for her hair, she polished off the last of the wine
and slung the skin over her shoulder. Climbing back down wasn't the only
reason for the flush on her cheeks as she climbed over the bridge and walked
up to the smithy.

Horrendous noises and smells belched out from inside as she poked her head
in the door. Waving at Narshada in the distance, who merely responded with a
respectful nod of her head, she called inside.

"Tinker? It's late - did you want to join me for a snack or something? I'm
just on my way home and..."

The sight of him coming around the corner soaked to the skin with sweat and
still shirtless left her momentarily lost for words. Swallowing hard around
a lopsided grin, she concluded weakly, looking into his eyes so she didn't
look /anywhere/ else, "...was going to offer to make you dinner."



-===--==--===
NRPG: Okay you can all go have cold showers now. Tinker, you've got a VERY
interested and slightly tipsy woman at your mercy. Going to take the bait?
*grin*

This takes me to late evening day three. I'd like to give Brian a chance to
reply before I move on too much further, since I kind of tagged him. :)

Namaste' (We Are All One)
   --Shadowsinger--
=========================
shadowsinger@bigfoot.com
     ICQ #: 3673956


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