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Date Posted: 16:31:52 03/03/03 Mon
Author: Aisling
Subject: "It's our little red-head! Hello, flame-hair!"

Aisling grinned as she made her way through the forges, past dwarves she had grown up around. Their greetings were familiar and friendly, calling out names they used to use back when she was younger. She smiled and called back at many of them, and those who knew her told her where she could find Odhran. He looked up as she drew near, smiling breifly before he returned to his work. Dragging a stool near the forge he was working at, she sat down and laid her staff across her knees.
"Dia dhuit, Odhran."
"Dia is Muire dhuit, Aisling. Conas ta tu?"
"Ta me go maith."
"And how are your studies going?"
Aisling sighed. "Oh, about as good as can be expected. But it's hard. Sometimes I wonder why Mother and Father are making me learn this language. As far as we know, we are the only people in the whole colony who can speak it."
Odhran didn't pause in his work, but she saw his eyebrows raise, and sighed again. "I know, I know! It's part of our heritage. But is it really worth it all, Odhran? Is it worth all of this confusion and frustration?"
"Ta, cinnte."
"I knew you'd say that."
Odhran just smiled. "So, Aisling, aside from that, what have you been doing?"
"Nothing much. I was walking through the streets, and met a fellow. His name is Penherst, and we practiced weaponry for a little bit. He's pretty nice."
Odhran nodded, but something in her voice made him look up. "Pretty nice, but--?"
"But . . . oh, but nothing." She sat there and watched him work for a few more minutes before speaking again. "But he kept saying strange things and mentioning my eyes--flirting, I suppose-- and, er . . .touching my shoulder."
Odhran gave his sister a sharp look. "What did you do?"
Aisling blushed, "I actually ended up beating him with a staff." Odhran grinned, knowing just how well his sister could fight with a staff.
"Well, if he continues to give you trouble, deirfiur, you just call on me."
Aisling laughed, and they turned to different subjects: how his family was doing, when Aisling could come and tend the children next, and such. Finally she rose. As she was leaving, he called after her, "Don't forget what I said about that lad!" and he lifted his hammer menacingly. She couldn't help but laugh at the sight of her big, burly brother, black to his elbows, trying to scowl fiercely.
"Go raibh maith agat!" she shouted back. "Slan."
"Slan."

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