Mara had not dreamed of nightingales in days. This place...had taken thoughts of nightingales from her, and the horrors waiting in Rome. Rome didn't exist now; Alex--Father Bernier--and his pain and horror and need for her didn't exist now. The world had collapsed into the Island for her, with its mysteries and terrors, and she had spent an entire week quietly adjusting while Faith helped her physically survive.
Faith. She had liked the woman enough to trust her instead of running when they and the Watchers had met in Sydney, in spite of the fact that Faith was a bit of a tigress under the skin. There was compassion there too, and scars, and sometimes her bravado seemed to hide a deep sadness. But most of all, she was fun, no-bullshit, and didn't mind Mara's weirdness much at all.
Mara was painting in the wet sand with her fingers, feet bare and hair blown all over the place. Her grey gauze dress clung to her damply as she carved geometric trellises covered in jasmine vines and then watched the surf eat them. The day's chores were done, she'd woven some more mats for her own shelter (Faith would need her own eventually; she didn't know why, but Mara simply knew this), and now...she just needed to create.
Something fuzzy and sand-speckled kept butting against her ankle as she worked. She finally reached down and scooped the little bundle of wiggle up--a feisty Golden Retriever puppy who Faith had found wandering the forest crying on one of her first runs through the woods. Mara could only guess where the little girl had come from; she didn't think the scary people in the woods kept pets. Mara had nicknamed her Orrie, for Aurum, the Latin word for gold. "Orrie Orrie Or-rie, little mischief-monster. You're not going to leave me alone until I play with you, are you?"
When Faith came around the dune radiating excitement, Mara looked up and smiled. "Good kind of people, then?"
"Hot kind of people in at least one case." Faith's eyes gleamed a little.
Mara laughed and went over to peek around the dune. Yes, people. Not the crazy grey-skinned ones with their slimy thoughts.
She blinked as she peered at them, "feeling" them a little. No wickedness; just tired, purposeful and--
The puppy squiggled out of her arms, and she was too stunned to not let him. "There's something...about some of them...I don't know...but one of them has a light around him. I--I think it may be okay, though...."
"Uh, Mara?" Faith asked, sounding just a little snarky.
Mara looked over--and realized Orrie was making a delighted beeline for the newcomers. "Oh crap," she said, a bit mortified.
[Mara] Got People? (tag Faith, open)
Faith. She had liked the woman enough to trust her instead of running when they and the Watchers had met in Sydney, in spite of the fact that Faith was a bit of a tigress under the skin. There was compassion there too, and scars, and sometimes her bravado seemed to hide a deep sadness. But most of all, she was fun, no-bullshit, and didn't mind Mara's weirdness much at all.
Mara was painting in the wet sand with her fingers, feet bare and hair blown all over the place. Her grey gauze dress clung to her damply as she carved geometric trellises covered in jasmine vines and then watched the surf eat them. The day's chores were done, she'd woven some more mats for her own shelter (Faith would need her own eventually; she didn't know why, but Mara simply knew this), and now...she just needed to create.
Something fuzzy and sand-speckled kept butting against her ankle as she worked. She finally reached down and scooped the little bundle of wiggle up--a feisty Golden Retriever puppy who Faith had found wandering the forest crying on one of her first runs through the woods. Mara could only guess where the little girl had come from; she didn't think the scary people in the woods kept pets. Mara had nicknamed her Orrie, for Aurum, the Latin word for gold. "Orrie Orrie Or-rie, little mischief-monster. You're not going to leave me alone until I play with you, are you?"
When Faith came around the dune radiating excitement, Mara looked up and smiled. "Good kind of people, then?"
"Hot kind of people in at least one case." Faith's eyes gleamed a little.
Mara laughed and went over to peek around the dune. Yes, people. Not the crazy grey-skinned ones with their slimy thoughts.
She blinked as she peered at them, "feeling" them a little. No wickedness; just tired, purposeful and--
The puppy squiggled out of her arms, and she was too stunned to not let him. "There's something...about some of them...I don't know...but one of them has a light around him. I--I think it may be okay, though...."
"Uh, Mara?" Faith asked, sounding just a little snarky.
Mara looked over--and realized Orrie was making a delighted beeline for the newcomers. "Oh crap," she said, a bit mortified.