Written in the sand
They made camp at a boulder at the outskirts of Enedwaith heather plains. Kor went to find some firewood, as usual, Sheila stayed on watch, more or less as usual too.
When Kor returned, he found her hunched up in an unusual position. She heard the cracking of the carried boughs and sticks and raised head, only to gesture to him „Stay silent!“.
Kor carefully put the firewood on the ground and stepped nearer. A small fledgeling was trembling on the ground between her palms.
„It fell off?“ Kor watched the birdling for a while and realized its size. It was a craban.
She nodded. The black crebain attacked the nest.
„The black? Aren’t there only black ones?“
„Pffft.“ Ironically, the snort of scorn was one of a few sounds she could pronounce loudly.
No, of course not. And I wonder, you - a well-traveled adventurer and home in these lands - and you don’t know that?
Kor shrugged. „Maybe ‘the black ones’ already exterminated all those – how do you call this kind?“
It’s a kind of crow. We called them soot feathers in Rohan, they are scarce there. But on this side of the mountains, I noticed they’re more to be found. When it will grow up, you will see it has reddish brown feathers on the wing edges.
It was difficult to lip-read all this. Plusheila knew it, but it seemed Kor managed to understand.
„Grow up? It will die without mother and nest.“
She gave him a look. A solid, blaming, stubborn stare. He understood. She is the mother and nest.
„One does not simply…“
Her eyes didn’t stop to penetrate him.
„Nevermind. Eh…“ he raised hands in yielding gesture. „I bet it would need some earthworms or such…“
He turned away to find some feeding for the little one, but Plusheila caught his hand.
I’m sorry, you just can’t know…
“Know what?”
She smiled and gestured: Bring the worms first.
*
The fed bird huddled and calmed itself for a while.
„Yeah, it seems the little pile of feathers will survive at least few days,“ said Kor.
Plusheila layed her palm on Kor’s leg. He immediately turned to her, ready to „listen“. But she was yet thinking, sorting words. When the moment was too long, he broke the silence.
„When it grows up, we might need a winged messenger.“
Plusheila smiled. Then she finally started her silent speech.
There was no opportunity to tell you, yet.
I am very skilled… no, that’s not it. Talented. I’m talented regarding animals. I don’t know why or how. Since… always.
Kor raised eyebrows. „Good…“
Plusheila nodded, then shook hear more intensively. Too many difficulties how to start. She closed her eyes to stop the mixture of stories and emotions, to stop chance of tears. There were too many things to say, to tell.
I have a big plea, my love, moved her lips after a while.
„Whatever, my sweet.“
Teach me to read and write. I need to tell you many things, and this… obstacle… Well, until it will be healed.
Kor smiled and kissed her.
„It will be my pleasure.“
He picked up a stick and started to draw letters in the sand in front of the campfire. They had enough firewood for several hours.
