e_delmar | (no subject)

(no subject)

It's nice on Shadow, quiet. Work's good, even if he ain't sleeping much.

But not sleeping's better'n what happens when he sleeps.

He don't need anything more'n what he's got there, but sometimes when he stares at the ceiling - or the night sky - he can't help but think about a thing or two left behind that maybe he don't want got rid of.

So it could be that it's late one night (on Shadow, anyway, who ever knows how times match up) Ennis sneaks into the bar, headed back towards his (their) room.

He's quick, and he's quiet, but could be you could catch him.

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"Rancher, like me. Works a farm."

Mary relaxes, a very little.

Not yet all the way, though.

"What sort of farm? Are there sheep on it?"

~~Ennis' mun ain't quite sure, to be honest.~~

"Horses, mostly."

"And," Mary persists, "it is not in Wales."

He looks at her oddly.

"Don't think there's a Wales out on Shadow, no."

"Well, you did not say it was in Shadow," Mary points out, reasonably, and then pauses.

A little reluctantly: "In any case I do not know where Shadow is."

There's a long pause.

"Can't say I do, either. Somewhere out in space."

Mary is less easy to distract than a lot of ten-year-olds.

It's still very far from impossible, though.

"Do you get there on a spaceship?" she demands eagerly.

He shakes his head.

"Just use the door."

"Oh."

Mary looks rather disappointed.

"I have been on a spaceship," she informs him, loftily.

Ennis raises an eyebrow at her.

"Han Solo took me," Mary explains. "It is the Millenium Falcon. I got to see all over it. And we fought space pirates and everything."

Yeah, Ennis isn't getting any of that.

Mary looks rather disapproving.

"It is quite silly to be living out in space and not ever to have even seen a spaceship."

"Ain't IN space. It's a planet."

Don't ask him to explain much more; he couldn't even tell you why it's more like earth and less like mars.

Mary eyes him.

"You said it was in space. You did not say it was a planet," she complains.

Pause; then, curiously, remembering a word she'd heard from a space pilot she'd talked to once: "Has it been terra-formed?"

She'd heard it; could be he has, too. He ain't too good with words, though.

" . . . maybe."

A little patronizingly: "That means it has been made like Earth. There is nothing left that used to be there before."

Defensively.

"Don't know."

"I met someone that said that all the planets were like that where he was," Mary informs Ennis, "but I do not know if that is really true of everywhere or not."

She frowns.

"I do not know if it is good, though - if there were creatures and growing things there already."

Begrudgingly,

"Might be. don't know if there were."

"If they are not there now," Mary says, wisely, "that means it likely was terra-formed. If there are only horses and things."

"Guess. Maybe you should ask her."

"I do not know her."

Not that this usually stops Mary. However.

"Nice old lady."

For Ennis, this seems like enough of a description.