The Park; Monday Afternoon.

[ecirpnellehada]

Adah's original intention had been to go to the library to continue her research on the experiment results, her nose stuck in a thousand books among the familiar comforting shelves. But then there were birds, many birds, flocking birds, Australian birds, of a fascinating nature perhaps only bested by some of the birds she saw in the Congo, the

Comments

[moonbrain_tam]

Her conversation with Tyler earlier had left River lost in complicated plans involving movement through ventilations systems and the correct use of explosives. The birds were distracting though, and she found her mind stuck somewhere in between birds wings and bombs.

Then another distraction appeared in the form of familiar thoughts and River froze, watching Adah leaning over her notebook.

[ecirpnellehada]

A bird in flight, frozen, not really a bird, but once was, the same bird that people in Kilanga thought ate the souls of children and the recently deceased. Adah noticed River there at the edge of her periphery birds, but continued for a moment longer, having to not want to leave the details of the plumage of the kookaburra incomplete. And then a look at the finished picture, comparing it to the sketching in her book of birds rather than the actual thing sitting in front of her nearby. Plenty of time, emit fo ytnelp, for River to take flight if she'd wanted to before Adah lifted her head and glanced her way, blinking simply. They'd done such a good job of either consciously or unintentionally avoiding each other that, even if Adah was one to say anything, she wouldn't know what it would be.

[moonbrain_tam]

River remained unmoving and silent. For someone who didn't know better it might seem that she was just watching Adah, but of course River was listening or blocking out thoughts, or a combination of both. Her body gave no hint as to which.

[ecirpnellehada]

It really didn't matter which, for the most part, because Adah wasn't thinking much about the matter; her mind was still bird-brained on all the work she'd been doing, and, if there was a thought spared for the frozen ghost of the past nearby, it was simply a weary one thinking that at least she was only here for a little over a month and, given how rarely they encountered each other on even such a small island, that meant she wouldn't have to deal with the awkwardness of how neither of them seemed to be capable of just being regular human beings in the other's presence. Adah felt like the fact that she felt nothing much at all was probably a firm indication of her heartless, blackened soul, and River...well, she had no idea what River thought; she wasn't a mind reader

[stupid_toasters]

Sometime later in the afternoon, after being fabulous (or so he thought) at class, Lee found himself wandering (or maybe he was looking) and sometimes his wandering found him something good.

"Enjoying the weather?" he asked, all casual and relaxed.

[ecirpnellehada]

The earlier encounter with River had left Adah's mood descending almost as much as the crooked curve of her back, increased as she leaned in even closer to her notebook, her details on any following sketches meticulous, careful not to miss anything. Quick little strokes, almost entirely even on the plumage of a cockatoo except for a few ruffled by the wind, and then she paused, considering whether or not to look up.

She did, the ends of her hair brushing the brushes of her pencil, turning her head to offer a faint smile. "A little chilly for my tastes," she said, and then, slowly and carefully, sat up, rolling her spine in the crooked S it wanted to follow before she could sit back against the tree and look up at the Eel more comfortably. "But there are birds."

In case he didn't notice.

[stupid_toasters]

"I didn't know you liked birds," he said and smiled. "I've never really noticed, to be honest."

[ecirpnellehada]

"Well," Adah gave the Eel a light smile back, "it isn't exactly as blatant as my love for microbes, but it's Africa's fault. So many amazing birds in the jungle, and then along came one Christmas, and Brother Fowles, the Catholic who had the mission before my father took it, gave me this." She jerked her head toward the book laying open on the grass, and its detailed coverage of the cockatoo. "It was the first new reading material I had for ages; I ate it up. An obsession was born."

There was a slight pause, her eyes drifting toward the book. "Also, birds can often carry many things that cause diseases, so the two interests can sometimes intermingle..."