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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Fortunately, Mary considers horses an acceptable answer.

"Horses are a good thing to care about," she agrees.

"Ain't nothing."

Sounds almost defensive, he does.

"Horses?"

Mary looks startled.

"They are too something. They are creatures. Like you or me or the robin -"

Ennis looks at her skeptically.

"If they were nothing," Mary says, quite patiently, "they would not be horses."

. . . oh.

"Meant ain't much."

Mary is honestly puzzled.

"They are as much as anything else. And bigger than a good many things - though how big something is does not matter to how much you care about it; the robin was the very first thing I ever really liked."

Ennis remembers the first thing he ever really liked.

The first thing past horses, anyway.

Remembers it all too well.

"S'pose."

"It is easier to care for creatures and flowers and things than for people, anyways," Mary adds, sagely.

"They are less confusing."

Quietly, very quietly-

"Don't talk so much."

Mary starts - and then flushes an angry, offended red.

"I shall talk if I like."

"Ain't what I-"

He shakes his head, flustered.

"Then what did you mean?" Mary demands sharply.

"Animals."

Because that makes EVERYTHING clear.

Mary flushes an even deeper red -

- and then pauses, and actually processes the statement.

Her face is still red, but now it's more the embarrassed variety.

"Oh.

That is true - at least, they do not talk Human mostly."

"Most don't talk at all."

Most, anyway.

Mary shakes her head, a little.

"They talk to each other.

It is only that we do not understand, most of us."

"S'pose."

"I know," Mary says confidently.

"I know because Dickon understands them."

Cue more skepticism. Or did it ever leave?

"He does!"

Yeeeeeah, not helping.

"You shall see," Mary informs him, loftily.

"When Dickon comes in next if he comes with his creatures, you shall see."

"Guess I will."

And maybe there shouldn't be something of a challenge in his voice, but there is.

Confidently: "It is not guessing. It is truth."