PRODIGALS
ELEVEN
It was a very nice hike. Varna led Smith up a remote trail he wouldn't have known existed, and which ended at an exquisite turquoise lake nestled deep in the hills.
He'd asked her many questions along the way, and had learned many things that day; not so much from the literal answers provided, which were all interesting enough, but rather from how the answers were given. Varna chose her words very carefully, and not out of caution or vigilance but rather to ensure their accuracy. Honesty and clarity were extremely important to the Refugees, and misunderstanding or misinterpretation was not tolerable. Varna also thought with great care while she was speaking, and there were frequent, long pauses punctuating her narrative while she considered precisely what she would say next. Her slow speaking pace might've driven The Doctor half-mad, but John Smith found it delightful, once he'd adjusted to it.
Also, as had happened since time immemorial when two individuals from different cultures met, they spent a lot of time observing each other when they spoke – to better understand the gestures and body language of the other.
At the edge of the lake they sat and rested, gazing out over the calm water. Above its surface buzzed small, glimmering flying insects – every so often a fish-like creature would eject itself from the water, catch one or two of the unluckier insects, and splash back down into the lake. It was amazingly tranquil and comforting to watch; almost hypnotic. Time passed unobtrusively.
"This is one of my favorite places," explained Varna. "I feel peaceful here."
Smith silently nodded in agreement but then realized that Varna might not understand. "Yes, I feel it too." He sighed audibly, involuntarily. "One's troubles simply melt away… like they never existed."
Varna turned to look at him. "I have not asked you many questions. I'm sorry. It is not that I am uninterested."
"No, it is all right," he answered. "I am really not that fascinating – I'm just a traveler, that's all I am; a traveler who has been lucky enough to wash up temporarily onto the shores of your world." Smith smiled at her. "A circumstance for which I count myself extremely fortunate!"
Varna stared at the ground for a long time. "Perhaps, if you like, tomorrow I could take you to my other favorite place?"
Smith leaned back on his elbows, stretched out his legs, gazed at his shoes and considered the offer for a few moments.
"I think I'd like that very much."
There was another long pause. Varna closely examined the somewhat flimsy item of clothing her newfound acquaintance had covering his upper body – which was in fact his usual button-down shirt rolled up at the sleeves, sans tie – and considered her next words carefully before proceeding.
"That location is much higher up on the mountain. It would perhaps be wise if you had a heavier garment you could wear. Do you own such an item?"
John Smith, or was it the Doctor, couldn't help but smile at that. It was a smile that could light up an entire world, or melt the heart of a stranger.
"As a matter of fact I do," he finally answered. "I'll make sure to bring it along."
Varna settled back comfortably into the grass and sighed contentedly. John Smith did the same. Then they both watched the water.
