(Untitled)

[countersparking]

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[southern_red]

Right before sunset. When the sky turns red.

[withsoftestwing]

That sounds very pretty.

[southern_red]

Have you never seen it? If your answer's no, you really should.

[withsoftestwing]

I've seen pink evenings, and orange and lilac. Never red, though! Mostly I just see rather dull evenings, where I'm from it tends to be rather grey.

[southern_red]

They happen most often in the summer. [ A subdued smile. ] Grey evenings can have their charm. Are you not a fan?

[withsoftestwing]

[ have a lively one in return, with a bubbly irish laugh ] Oh, I am. Sometimes the rainiest evenings are the best. Though it does get a little boring sometimes, seeing the same over and over again.

[southern_red]

[ He been around for hundreds of years, so Abraham's almost forgotten what it means to be bored anymore. ]

Perhaps you need to only look a bit closer. Nothing remains the same indefinitely.

[withsoftestwing]

So I need to pay attention a bit more? [ the thought seems novel and exciting to her. ] I can do that.

[southern_red]

[ He tilts his head to one side. Perhaps he's surprised by her reaction, though his expression remains mostly subdued. ]

Only if you think you would enjoy it. You don't need to do anything -- or at least, I would hope. It is more a matter of want.

[withsoftestwing]

I do want! You know - to see more. Funny, but I never really thought about just looking a bit harder. It's very easy to get caught up in the immediate details.

[ if anything, she seems child-like and mature at the same time, in a funny balance of innocent curiosity and fairly sensible speech. ]

[southern_red]

That's because most people live in the moment and move from one to the next, over and over again. When you've been around as long as I have, your perspective changes. Or can.

Mine did.

[withsoftestwing]

It's a shame. I think life shouldn't be so transitory; there are so many things worth savouring.

How long have you been around?

[southern_red]

It is the natural order of things. Things end, begin again and have their time in between. Perhaps those that see shorter cycles should simply learn to savor what they have. Though I am not one to judge.

[ He looks at her, considering. ]

I was born in the thirteenth century.

[withsoftestwing]

... Oh. Blimey, that's impressive. [ ... peers at him a moment ] You look good, though, you know, for the thirteenth century.

[southern_red]

[ A very soft, modest laugh. ]

I was eighteen when I went into the jungle. Arguably, I have been eighteen ever since.

[withsoftestwing]

[ she frowns, chewing her lip a little. ] I turn eighteen in three months. [ HUH. well, time's not stopping for this one, apparently, though she isn't aware that she is far older than seventeen years herself. she briskly moves on from the topic, her tone curious. ] Since you "went into the jungle"?