- 13 - A wafting east breeze breaks on the Fifth's dawn.

[toobravehearted]

[ The Doctor is on the landing of the first floor today, forearms leaning on the stone wall that overlooks onto the lobby below. In his hands he has a Chinese text, the pages yellowed and ancient, the glue for its binding brittle and giving off a vague scent of age whenever a page is carefully turned. He was reading the text earlier; now, he's just looking down into Cair Paradisa, pensive and allowing his mind to wander, thinking of people that come and go, round and round. Life is a wheel and Paradisa is not much different. Although, granted, the Doctor thinks it's a Ferris wheel sometimes, which in of itself could be rather apt, a Ferris wheel in a twisted fairground.

Presently he takes his journal from his pocket and props it up and open on the wall.]

"As evening clouds withdraw, a clear cool air floods in. The jade wheel passes silently across the Silver River. This life, this night, has rarely been kind. Where will we see this moon next year?"

Good Morning, Paradisa. It's the Doctor here of the fawn coat kind, starting your day with a piece of poetry passed to me from a-- A good man and friend. Now, I'm sure someone will be curious enough to want to know what it means. It's about the value you place on time spent with family, or with friends; I'm sure many can agree that ultimately, you choose your family for yourself. Here perhaps, that rings just as true.

While there can be plenty more said on the matter of friends lost, I will refrain from that. I do have a question however, if you will permit me to ask and be so direct. What have you lost?

The castle takes its price and I'm... Well, I can only apologise for my curiosity. There are a few of you that I have asked already, and if there is any offence taken I am very sorry. You have the choice not to answer.

[ The Doctor sighs and then straightens up, choosing to lean his hip against the wall and pick up his journal as he does so. ]

On a lighter note. While we have poetry, why not a riddle as well to get us going this morning? No cheating now by stopping by the library for this one. The aim of this is to think, and that's the most important thing you should be doing. Besides, this is one of my favourites, how could I not share?

John gave his brother James a box: About it there were many locks.
James woke and said it gave him pain; So gave it back to John again.
The box was not with lid supplied; Yet caused two lids to open wide:
And all these locks had never a key. What kind of box, then, could it be?

Comments

[eat_me_beat_me]

I don't mind if you ask.

[She smiles, reflecting back on her two years at the castle]

Back before I figured out who Mark was back home, when he was still just Harry on the radio, I would send him letters on red paper. It was kind of our thing. As for the sewing? I guess it'd be because I used to make most of my own clothes back home and after I got here.

[toobravehearted]

Ahh. [And he smiles, wondering if he has an understanding.] I see - it wouldn't take a leap to wonder what kind of letters are written on red paper. I can see how that'd be important to you.

[eat_me_beat_me]

[Her smile turns slightly mischievous]

Poems, actually. He used to call me the poetry lady [among other things] before he figured out who I was. I still remember every one I wrote him.

[toobravehearted]

Do you know, I'd wager that you do remember each one as well. The memories are fond to you but until your loss changed-- You arrived here after Mark, didn't you? If I recall-?

[eat_me_beat_me]

[She'd offer to recite them but she's not sure if she feels up to reciting poetry that includes "eat me, beat me" and "jam me, jack me" to the Doctor]

Yup. I got here 'bout a month after he did.

[toobravehearted]

[If he were to know she's not feeling up to reciting that poetry, he'd be eternally grateful just from those snippets alone. Not that he'd think her poetry to be bad of course...]

Hmm. [Thoughtful pause.] That would make sense, I suppose. With Mark being here as well... I'm sorry, I'm thinking out loud. As to why your loss might have changed.