called_lioness | (no subject)

"I shall make my own," Mary says, with predictable dignity, and rolls her own slice in the brown sugar before taking a bite.

Beat.

Then, triumphantly: "It does taste like a turnover."

"Almost," Lucy says with Great Dignity.

"Of course almost," Mary agrees, tolerantly. "It has no pastry."

"Thus, different," Lucy maintains, as she bites her own apple slice.

Mmmmsugar.

Well-fed, and well-warmed by the fire, it's not long before Lucy and Mary finish setting up camp and go to bed in their respective bunkrolls - though Mary stays awake for a fair bit, staring up at the stars in some fascination.

(She's never slept beneath them before.)

And then it's morning, and they are suddenly surrounded by birds.

Very loud birds.

They are, in fact, quite loud.

Not as loud as Squirrels, though.

Lucy sighs in her sleep and rolls onto her back, cracking one eyelid open to look at the trees.

Bloody birds.

Mary, by contrast, tends to wake up early anyways.

"Oh - I have never heard them first singing from outside before!" she exclaims (loudly) and sits happily up in her bedroll.

Lucy does too, really.

Normally she is not up the night before wondering--well, wondering, though.

"Well," she laughs ruefully as she pushes herself up--a bit more slowly--"you can now."

"It is much better than when it is heard from indoors."

Mary would get out of her bedroll, but she doesn't want to fright the birds - so instead she stays, very still, listening.

"It is," Lucy admits softly, and smiles a bit more as she looks at the girl.

"Did you sleep well, Mary?"

"The ground was a bit hard," says Mary, scrupulously honest, "but once I was asleep I did not notice."

"I'm glad. What would you like for breakfast?" she adds as she shakes her blanket clean.

Practical: "What have we got?"

"We've apples, again, and some nuts and bread and cheese. If we want meet I'll have to shoot a bird, I think."

"Oh, don't," Mary says, quickly. "Don't - they have only been singing! I do not need meat for breakfast. Apples and bread and cheese will do me awfully well."

"Not those birds, anyway," she smiles. "But I shan't shoot one if you'd prefer. We've enough to eat till we head back. Would you get them out while I roll the blankets up?"

Mary nods, and goes over to the pack, tugging out their food provisions with the same sort of intent earnestness with which she'd helped to set up camp last night.

Lucy waits till the rolls are made up before going over to Mary and settling next to her. "So how does camping appeal to you, my dear?"

"I like it - quite a lot," Mary answers, turning her bright face up to Lucy.

"It is nice to be so outside. There is Magic everywhere."

"Aye."

That's quiet, as Lucy reaches out to stroke Mary's hair.

"I wish I could show thee Narnia, Lady Mary. But this is something like it, in its own way."

"Is it?"

Mary looks around the forest - at all the trees, and the birds, and the faint view of clouds above the leaves.

"Is it all forest here, Lucy? Only green things everywhere?"

"The sea isn't so very far away," she informs Mary as she looks up herself. "We can visit if you like. But there's a rather large amount of green things. Enough to please you, I should hope."

She does hope.

(She wants this trip to be perfect.)

"Of course I am pleased."

Mary looks up at Lucy - almost startled.

"I have never been a place like this. Not with so much forest and trees anywhere; it is not like the jungle. It is a real forest. It is real and it is beautiful."

"It is," Lucy says, looking at Mary, and then at the trees again.

"I thought you would be. Hoped, at least. I wanted this to be fun as could be for you. And yes. It is real, and beautiful, and so old and alive."