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Post by Richard Cabal on Dec 18, 2009 5:35:05 GMT
He wasn't surprised about the one lesson thing but nodded to Grace as if she had revealed something to him. It occurred to him that it would be good for her to be a teacher anyhow. To remind herself that she had skills too. And I get to read.
"A," Richard repeated and made the shape in the earth. It was large and childish, the motion felt alien to him. He made the shape again and looked up at Grace. "Is that alright? Is the name of the letter the same as the sound?"
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Post by Grace de Beaumont on Dec 18, 2009 5:49:47 GMT
Smiling, Grace patted Richard's arm. "That's just fine. You will have an advantage over a child learning to write -- your coordination is mature and excellent."
That was an interesting question, one Grace had to stop and think over. "Most of the letters sound like their names, but there are a few exceptions. We'll get to those by and by. The next letter is...."
They went on for some time while the meat cooked. Grace taught Richard five letters at a time, then quizzed him on them, making him write them over and over. Drilling is how she had been taught, repetition and pattern, and she supposed that would be the best way to teach Richard. Somewhere in the middle of things, while he was bent over concentrating on the making the curve of a 'C' look rounder, Grace was caught gazing at his profile. It was a strong face, expression determined, eyes intense. Grace wondered what Richard looked like as a boy, or even a younger man. Would his features have been sharper or softer?
After eating came more letters until the light grew dim. Grace yawned. "You're nearly through the alphabet Richard. That's excellent. In the morning before we break camp, you will go over them again. Sleep helps absorb things in the mind, I think I remember hearing." Or maybe it was a tale told to lively little girls to get them to bed." Grace actually smiled at memories of her childhood, one of the rare times when those memories did not haunt but helped.
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Post by Richard Cabal on Dec 18, 2009 5:57:09 GMT
"Heard of nothing to disprove it," truthfully, Richard did want to sleep. The letters swirled around his mind, all accompanied by a shape. It was in a way, a strange concept. Giving an idea, an individual sound, a form on paper.
"Sleep then," he murmured and put down the stick. The cheery fire was welcoming, Richard pulled off his boots and wriggled closer to its warmth. "Thanks for teaching me letters." He curved his arms into a pillow and reflected on how long it had been since he slept on a bed. Richard frowned, trying to remember the last time. Probably back in Hwicee. He had made sure to have one bedroom between the two of them on the road and in cities.
"Sweet dreams, Grace."
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Post by Grace de Beaumont on Dec 18, 2009 21:23:45 GMT
Grace had curled up on her own side of the fire, deciding the night was cold enough she would just sleep in full clothing. Wrapped in her cloak, the woman craned her neck up to look at Richard. She smiled.
"You're quite welcome, Richard. Sleep well." Pulling the hood over her face, Grace waited for her own breath to warm her and began to slip away into sleep.
Sometime during the night, Grace woke with a start. Something had screamed. Laying still, her heart hammering in her throat, she listened intently for the noise to repeat itself and eventually, it did. Further off but high and intense. An owl? Peeking out from her hood, Grace noted the fire had burned low, now mere embers. A primal fear clutched her -- didn't things that attacked during the night fear fire? What would happen without the flame's protection.
Brush rustled on the other side of the pile of bones and that decided it -- Grace crawled on all fours to the dark outline of Richard's form. Should I wake him? she fussed silently, eyes roving the darkness surrounding them. The large man slept on, oblivious to Grace's fear. That in itself was a comfort for Grace had never known Richard to sleep through anything truly scary. Nevertheless, she wiggled closer like a puppy unsure of the reception it would get until she was next to -- but still not touching -- what she guessed was his shoulder. Turning away, Grace burrowed back under her cloak, but she felt better putting Richard between herself and the woods. No more noises jarred her awareness and, eventually, Grace fell back to sleep.
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