WC 700+
Did she. . . had she heard Alaine correctly? Her brows furrowed with worry when Alaine spoke the unmistakable sentence, ‘I am undeserving.’ Why? Why would the woman think that? Was she just frightened to learn something new, or was there something more deeply rooted into the woman’s fiber that made her self-conscious? Maybe she still felt guilty about her slapdash injunction into the ranks, felt like she still owed the pack for the food she had taken and did not want to inconvenience the Court any more than she already had. That didn’t make any sense to Orin, though. That had all happened a long time ago, and from what she understood, Alaine’s debt to the Court had been paid. She was just like any other member, and should be treated as such.
Her delicate hands flew to her hips, one of which jutted out in a disbelieving stance, and she snorted in defiance, shaking her head gently. “What are you saying? Of course you’re deserving. You’re my pack, and my friend!” Her voice was wrought with concerned honesty. She added, almost as an afterthought, “Plus you’re obviously smart. You’ll learn it in no time, as long as you try and put in the effort. It’s not really that hard at all.”
Her visage took on a contemplative look as Alaine elaborated, in her enchanting brogue, about the spirituality she believed. Listening to her now was the first time it occurred to her that Alaine really didn’t seem to be a native of this area. Orin didn’t know enough about the regions here to know if her accent was just the difference of a land away, or if she had come farther than that. She narrowed her eyes as she thought about it.
“You know,” she spoke slowly, deliberately, as though she were choosing her words carefully. “I never believed in anything like that. There was never any time for anything but survival when I was young. . . my parents. . . I didn’t know them long enough for them to really teach us if they believed in anything else. A lot of the stories I read have characters that believe, and it’s almost always different with a few similar concepts. Do you think you could. . . teach me what you believe?”
It would be a different form of gathering knowledge than Orin was accustomed to, if Alaine obliged. She was used to learning on her own, rarely with a mentor, and the thought of learning about a system of beliefs when spoken with the passion of someone who actually believed was exciting. Coincidentally enough, the two girls seemed to have a similar idea at the same time, for right about when she offered her apprehensive question, Alaine did the same, and her face brightened.
A gentle hand clutched Alaine’s arm in excitement, and her eyes rounded with happiness. “Oh my, yes!” It was the first time anyone had asked her to employ her talents and interests for them, and she leaped at the chance almost before Alaine could finish asking. Not only would she be able to help Alaine, but it was just one more thing she could soak up in the meantime as well. “I would love to!”
But her expression changed, growing sly yet still pleasant. She raised a finger, “But only on one condition.” She grinned slightly. “You have to learn how to read and write. It’s perfect, really. I can take down what you dictate and teach me, but in return, I will teach you letters and symbols, and you can transcribe them into a second book. That way you can practice, and when we’re done, there will be two copies of your book. You can keep them both, or give one to the pack, or a pupil, or your son. . .” By now, she had a smile that could shame the sunshine.
“That would only be fair. The hardest part will be finding blank books, but Niro just got me a new journal so he probably knows where to find them. I imagine there’s got to be some in Lunenburg. I haven’t been there to search, yet, but there has to. Even if not, I have enough loose sheets to get a good start.”