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Oct. 29th, 2005 11:28 pmRiver is dreaming.
But not the classroom, this time. No smiling teacher, no students sleeping or arguing, no map of the solar system -- no Reavers. No foreboding.
A stretch of rocky desert sand, instead, under the shadow of a cliff. The wind has carved the rock into sinuous shapes, and at its foot is a small spring. Green clusters of spike-leafed plants grow among the stones, studded with creamy translucent flowers or globular clusters of white blossoms.
River is sitting cross-legged against the cliff, watching a bee move among the flowers.
But not the classroom, this time. No smiling teacher, no students sleeping or arguing, no map of the solar system -- no Reavers. No foreboding.
A stretch of rocky desert sand, instead, under the shadow of a cliff. The wind has carved the rock into sinuous shapes, and at its foot is a small spring. Green clusters of spike-leafed plants grow among the stones, studded with creamy translucent flowers or globular clusters of white blossoms.
River is sitting cross-legged against the cliff, watching a bee move among the flowers.
