Mara just looked at Faith. "Who says they'll even let us come back for our things? They don't seem to care much what we want or need, they just want us moving now." Her voice was still flat and resigned. "And I am getting a change of clothes, something to sleep on, and my art supplies. I am not sleeping on the ground because they--" she looked pointedly at Rodney, who blinked at her and fidgeted slighty, "--like telling total strangers what to do and think it's too much of a wait to let us get our stuff. I'm already agreeing to risk my life at the say-so of a bunch of people I met ten minutes ago because you know and trust one of them, and want to be with them. If you want me to pretend to be happy about it, I'm sorry, Faith. But you're asking too much." She gave a sad smile at the last. Never once had she raised her voice above its usual gentle tone.
She turned around when Faith left her and kept right on walking to the tent, looking pressured, scared and generally unhappy. She disappeared behind the dune, grabbed her bag and started throwing things into it, shaking the whole time. /I don't want to follow strangers who clearly don't give a damn about my needs because there's one of Faith's friends and a pretty man with them. But I can't survive out here alone. I'm scared. I'm really scared. And I'm scared even more because we'll be depending on people who act like *this*, and let some irrational, rude, arrogant...something...lead them./ She put her hand over her chest again, feeling insubstantial wounds burn and sting against her heart. /Is every supernatural being in the world like that? Because the last two have left a really bad impression./
She was getting agitated, and that was bad. She heard a nightingale call off in the forest, and had to spend a minute hugging Orrie and absorbing her simple happy-puppy emotions again before finishing up her packing. Fortunately, the sound did not repeat itself.
Back in the group, Sayid, who was keenly aware of Faith and all her contradictions--brash American looking halfway like a woman of his country, small and doe-eyed but as in-charge as a ten-year veteran. and...well, yes, /that/--swallowed and looked a bit rattled and embarrassed by her blatant scrutiny. He didn't even /try/ to answer her salacious compliment; he didn't have the words for it. Instead--after making sure his tongue would not run away from him, the laconic Iraqui said, "I...I fear your friend has no such guarantors of our goodwill. Her race to prepare appears to be simply an accommodation of your needs." He glanced over to the dune, and wondered how it was Mara knew that the Others wanted her.
Mara reappeared from behind the dune perhaps five minutes later, lugging along her bag, a change of clothes for Faith and their two bedrolls. She wasn't very strong, clearly, and though she moved as fast as she could it was a clumsy, awkward lurch through the sand. /If those inconsiderate jerks start yelling that I'm still taking too long, I'm staying here./
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timeasmymeasure
[Mara] Resignation (tag Faith, everyone)
Date: 2006-04-14 03:53 pm (UTC)She turned around when Faith left her and kept right on walking to the tent, looking pressured, scared and generally unhappy. She disappeared behind the dune, grabbed her bag and started throwing things into it, shaking the whole time. /I don't want to follow strangers who clearly don't give a damn about my needs because there's one of Faith's friends and a pretty man with them. But I can't survive out here alone. I'm scared. I'm really scared. And I'm scared even more because we'll be depending on people who act like *this*, and let some irrational, rude, arrogant...something...lead them./ She put her hand over her chest again, feeling insubstantial wounds burn and sting against her heart. /Is every supernatural being in the world like that? Because the last two have left a really bad impression./
She was getting agitated, and that was bad. She heard a nightingale call off in the forest, and had to spend a minute hugging Orrie and absorbing her simple happy-puppy emotions again before finishing up her packing. Fortunately, the sound did not repeat itself.
Back in the group, Sayid, who was keenly aware of Faith and all her contradictions--brash American looking halfway like a woman of his country, small and doe-eyed but as in-charge as a ten-year veteran. and...well, yes, /that/--swallowed and looked a bit rattled and embarrassed by her blatant scrutiny. He didn't even /try/ to answer her salacious compliment; he didn't have the words for it. Instead--after making sure his tongue would not run away from him, the laconic Iraqui said, "I...I fear your friend has no such guarantors of our goodwill. Her race to prepare appears to be simply an accommodation of your needs." He glanced over to the dune, and wondered how it was Mara knew that the Others wanted her.
Mara reappeared from behind the dune perhaps five minutes later, lugging along her bag, a change of clothes for Faith and their two bedrolls. She wasn't very strong, clearly, and though she moved as fast as she could it was a clumsy, awkward lurch through the sand. /If those inconsiderate jerks start yelling that I'm still taking too long, I'm staying here./