featherborn | Returning to Land

Returning to Land

The eagle circles one final time over the trees, wings stretched to their full. Freedom at its best. There is a slow spiralling dissent onto a tree in the middle of the forest. Moments later the eagle vanishes, and there is blond woman sitting in its place. Katya settles down on the study branch, swinging her legs while she reaches for the backpack she left there earlier.

She ties her hair back and slides the old faithful baseball down shading her face. Well, back to be landlocked for another day or so. She rips open a Mars bar with her teeth and toasts the skies and spits the wrapper to the ground cursing her employers at the circus.

If she could have her way, she would live in the forest where she could fly every day and ignore the rest of the world.

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"That is because you are a free spirit too." Her accent is not that noticeable, she has spent enough years here to loose the thickness. "I do admire those who serve. It does suit some personality types."

She sets the mug down. "What is your day or night job?"

He makes a vague sort of gesture, pausing for a sip of his steaming black coffee before answering. "I bounce around a bit, but I've mostly done various forms of social work. A fair lot of counseling, I guess you could say. I like working with people, and helping those who need it, in whatever way I can."

"I can see that," she says gently. "You have made it easy for me to talk, and I have barely spoken to you for more than few hours. And I am not generally....how do you say it....a people person?"

"Hence enjoying getting out of the city and up in the sky?" And him choosing a form that makes it easy to remain in the city as well and going out from it.

She nods. "When I get holidays, I go camping. Somewhere with no civilisation in sight. Those days flying, they are best, and at night I can see the stars." Proper stars. "Personal question but what is the longest you've spent in Sparrow form without a break?

"Not so long. A day, a day and a half, perhaps. I do enjoy it, and I love the freedom of flying. But I also enjoy being human, with all that entails. Lazy Sunday mornings, coffee, playing and listening to music, spending time with people..." He smiles warmly. "You know, those little things."

Her eyes shut for a moment, picturing the scene on a lazy sunday morning. "Baking, dancing. Singing in the kitchen." Oh there are so many little things that make everything worth while. "It sounds like lazy Sunday mornings are sacred. I have not learn the art of the lie in."

"No? I've perfected it," he says with a wide grin. And indeed, all those things she said; baking and dancing and singing in the kitchen, those are all things he used to do, all the time.

Things are different now, though. But, on the rare occasion he might get free access to a kitchen, he can still whip up a treat, just for the sheer pleasure of it.

It does fit his laid back attitude. "How long did it take you to perfect it?" she says with amusement. "Months? Years?" It is strange that it is something to be perfected.

She tilts her head and laughs as she realises her own mistake. "You do not perfect, you simply enjoy more?"

"Well, if we're putting things simply, then yep, well put." LEaning back in hsi chair the way he is, he looks like someone well at ease and relaxed.

"I used to stress a lot but wise up sometime after college. Though to myself that free time is something to enjoy and not spend on working even more. So. And I think that spending some time on being lazy is just healthy."

"I must learn some of the techniques that used to destress." Saying and doing it are two very different things.

What did you stress about?" She is curious, she would have thought he would be more stressed out know helping people with their dark secrets and carrying them around with him.

"Just the usual that everyone stresses about, I suppose. School and grades, then work and money being tight, relationships and what-not." He shrugs and pauses for another sip of coffee. His cup is emptying rather fast. "I think the key thing is to realize that stressing about it doesn't make it any better."

She signal for two more cups of coffee to be brought to them and nods. Once you start to stress about one, you stress about the rest. "But not stressing and caring can make them worse." She smiles wryly. "In some ways the army was easy. Orders. Food. Fighting. I didn't have to worry about people and how to get on with them."

"Not caring, sure. Not stressing, though?" He pulls a bit of a disagreeing face. "Though I suppose there's the whole good stress and bad stress thing."

Ah, more coffee. Ever since his high school days, coffee had been his addiction of choice.

"Can't say I know what that's like. I never had so much as a thought to join the army, myself."

"It is not always easy to control."

And coffee is what she uses to keep herself on her feet when she gets up early in the morning for a long flight. It is utterly worth it, and as a bonus, she does enjoy the taste a lot.

"I would not recommend it. What you see.... I think it might break someone who cares about people."

For the first time his smile fades and he looks a bit sad. "So do some of the things you might see as a social worker, I'll admit." He sighs. "But that's comparing apples to oranges, I think. I doubt it's really comparable."

"I can only imagine," she says gently and reaches over the table to touch his arm. She wonders and hopes that he has someone to go home to, someone who can take his mind off what he listens to. "I would think it worse for you. My ghosts are only my own."

He glances down at her hand on his arm, and for a moment his comes to cover hers, giving it a light squeeze before pulling back again.

"I don't think it's better or worse. Just different. Apples and oranges. What hurts here is that it's all somehow... Every day, you know. Every day type stuff, even when it shouldn't be. And that it doesn't ever really end."

She draws her hand back abashed and places it on the new mug of coffee. It is not often that she reaches out and makes physical contact without being in some form of relationship. "But you must bring some comfort to them," she says softly. "Hope is powerful."

She ducks her head. "I hope your partner reminds you of the good you do."

"Partner?" For just a moment he blinks, looking somewhat confused. "Oh. Uh, I don't have one. Not for a long time now."

"Oh." And for a moment she becomes very busy stirring sugar that she doesn't strictly need into her coffee. "I thought....never mind." Her eyebrows furrow a little and she bites her lip. It had been a rather personal assumption she had made. It is only polite to give him some honesty back.

"I pose as a girlfriend for a friend at the circus sometimes. But that is all."

He watches that stirring, and that little frown, and he wonders. He wonders if it would be best if he bid her good night and took his leave. But no. Not yet.

"Really? I guess there's a story there?"

Katya nods, "A story that is not fully mine to tell. He is scared someone will find out about his real relationship. I help until he overcomes that fear." She glances up, "He comes from a strict upbringing. Someday it will be easier for him."

She smiles a little. "It is no hardship to be taken for dinner once in awhile."

So a relationship that would be frowned upon, then? Casper has never understood why some people do that. Love is love, isn't it?

"No, I'd guess not." His grin is back now, with a conspiratorial hint to it. While he would wish that no-one would ever feel a need to hide their relationship, he approves of Katya helping out.

He has that sort of grin that makes you want to grin right back. Katya gets the feeling that one could tell Casper anything and he would not betray them. "I even let him pay occasionally." She will not all of the time, she does not wish him to think that she needs paid to help and keep her mouth shut.

She laughs softly. "I think I would frustrate anyone I was with for long with my independent ways."

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