I hadn't noticed until now, but Zachan had the smallest kink on the bridge of his nose, and I struggled to make it as subtle as possible in my sketch. But I think the problem was coming from the fact his face was so tense and serious, his skin bunched up right on the kink, making it seem more of a hill then a tiny hump of earth.

From my constant corrections, the ball of wax I used to erase my mistakes was slowly becoming a dark charcoal color from the pale white it started as. I felt I would need some more wax from Mr. Larkin soon.

When my fingers became ashy from erasing and sketching back and forth so many times, is when my frustration snapped. " Zachan... can you please relax your face."

We were both straddling the log we sat at yesterday, a lose piece of wood was my make do easel which was resting on my knees. Looking up, his face did relax, yet into a frown.

I sigh." Can you... maybe not look as..." Finding the right word was hard, as it was mixture of sadness, anger and primarily confusion. I was tempted to reach out and mold his face like clay, straightening his frown and flatting the crease between his brows.

My words do not change his expression however as his face remains the same, he makes no move to respond. I realize why, which makes me sigh again." You can speak Zachan."

"I thought you said I could not." He responds.

"That was because before when you spoke, you were moving a lot. It is hard to draw you when you are not still." I explain, remembering how he might not have spoke much, mainly asking questions of my drawing process, but he was like a young child who could not sit in the same place for longer then a moment. And when I mentioned it, he went from one extreme to another, sitting like a statue.

"What is it you want me to do?" he asks finally, seeming just as frustrated as me at this point.

Getting somewhere my shoulders lower from their tense position, which felt like they were up to my ears. "Can you relax your face..." I coax, hoping a gentler method would work." Don't frown?"

"It is hard for me..." He answers honestly, his eyes showing his internal struggle clearer then usual.

I bite my lip, knowing he is worried and tired from what has happened to his father. I thought instead of forcing it, I might be able to let it happened naturally.

" You ask me before-" I turn my attention back to my sketch, skipping on his nose for now and concentrating on his jaw line." How I could draw like this."

"Yes."

"Well, I use light."

"Light?" he sounds skeptical.

"Yes, light creates shadows and definition on your features." I say, taking a quick glance up at his face, his jaw bones didn't seem as crunched together anymore." I find it looks more realistic that way."

After a beat of silence I thought he would remain quite, however he speaks up again." Have you always known this, about... light?"

It takes me a moment to compose my answer as I was focused on two things at once." No, I had a teacher when I was younger. He saw I had an eye for art and taught me about sketching. He was going to teach me how to paint, but my father could not afford for him to teach me any longer..."

The memory popped up as I was speaking. I remembered when I was so young not understanding why Mr. Yowton had left. But growing I realized my father was spending money for his people's survival then my art lessons. Knowing this now as an adult I would have gladly giving the money for my art lessons to my people who starved.

"You mention your father... but I never hear you speak of your mother..." he observes.

My pencil stroke falls short on my paper. It wasn't particularly hard topic to speak of, as my memories of her were vague yet always good ones. I never got sad from reminiscing on those, but on the memories that could have been.

My eyes remain on the paper as I answer." She died when I was a child, I only knew very little of her..." I then look up to Zachan." You don't speak of your mother either."

A tenseness comes back to Zachan, even though I see him trying to alleviate it. His hands on his thighs curl into fists." My mother also died when I was a child."

He says nothing more. He doesn't have to, as I already know the circumstance of his mother's death. And I wasn't going to bring up that knowledge now either.

" Then we have something in common..." I whisper, offering him a sad smile. One he returns, however his fists still remain clenched tightly on his legs.

The moment passes and I go back to sketching. I thought we would be sitting in silence for the rest of the day, but Zachan speaks up again.

"Can I ask you something?"

I peer up to him, he looked hopeful." Yes... depending on what it is?" I give a curious brow.

" When I was younger, Andrew gave us lessons on your language, as he gives you lessons on ours." He starts off. I was surprised he mentioned Mr. Larkin, as he normally says the older man's name with a bitter note. " As I was learning I also got fascinated on how people lived over the waters on a land I had not seen. He tried to explain things... one thing I never understood was... time?"

When I wrap my head around what he is asking, I am still left a little confused." Time, as in passing time?"

" Yes." He nods his head, seeming almost eager to hear what I have to say. He then closes his eyes, forcing himself to remember something. " You have, years and... months."

I was starting to understand what he was wanting. Coming here all the little things I learned from such a young age seem common knowledge. Yet people hear didn't grow up learning how many days in a months and how to read a clock. It was completely foreign to them as there time structure is to me.

" I can try..."

And I did. I sat there trying to explain the amount of days in a year. How a day was measured. Naming months and which seasons they belonged to. I did this as I sketched, and Zachan happily listened, no longer was his face contorted in tension, but open in interest.

"You are how many years?" Zachan asks innocently. Back home if a man asked me my age I would never speak to him again. However Zachan didn't know this.

"28 years..." I admit. " How do your people measure time, age if you do not have years?"

" It ranges from tribe to tribe. Some by seasons... but here we measure by the full moons... I have lived-" he struggles again, remembering the English word. " 344 full moons."

My eyebrows raise, it seems like such a large number but really when dividing by 12- I stop mid thought and reach down to my sketchbook by my foot. I quickly flip it open. As a woman I was not really allowed that much mathematic lessons, but from the little I was taught, and hopefully remember I could figure out how many years Zachan had lived.

There are around 12 full moons like months every year. Dividing 12 by 344 was tricky, but I needed up with... 28, and 8 months...

Zachan had watched me content through my equation solving. Peering up he looks interested in what ever I was doing.

" It would seem we are the same age..." I say, closing my sketchbook in hand." You were born in the winter?"

"Yes." Was Zachan's response.

"So was I..." I say, my winter birthday passing from my state of depression several months ago. Back in Fellshore it was a celebration, here it did not really seem to matter. And I started to realize time was a different concept back home to the Southern lands. It stretched my mind thinking that old and young could be seen differently...

" Then, Aleenia, we have another something in common..." I hear Zachan say, looking up he has a soft smile on his face. One I give back. A moment is shared between us... I felt as if a was on a lip of a cliff , falling into an unknown feeling I could not place. It scared me because I knew where I stood with Zachan before, he was the husband that I felt disrespected me and stayed away from. But now...

Shaking my head to pull me out of my thoughts I place my sketch book back down to my feet and look back to the on coming portrait of Zachan. Pencil in hand I go back to darkening the underline of his jaw and neck.

"Why is it you are so interested in our life style, in Fellshore and the rest of the North Continent?" I ask him. I found it odd when many people here look to me as if they wished they had nothing to do with it.

I glimpse up while sketching, and see the unease Zachan has for answering the question. But he does speak eventually." Since I was young, I explored all I could, discovered all I could... it interests me, and maybe if I was not bound here-"

He stops himself abruptly, ceasing whatever he was going to say. Instead he takes a moment to himself before clearing his throat.

"I am curious like many... and perhaps see things differently then others."

It was an answer that left more questions, like usual these days for Zachan. Questions I desperately wanted to ask, but by his tone he was ending the conversation.

I change the topic." How is it you got those scars?" I gesture with my pencil to the left of his chin. It was barely visible but a few scratches of skin were bubbled, as if he had cut himself a little to deeply that eventually left a scar. I had noticed it long ago, but by sketching and trying to capture every detail I found it once again.

At the mention he seems to inadvertently lift his fingers to the scars I am referring to. An amused smile washes over his face.

"I tell people I slipped in the river when I was fishing, hitting my chin on the sharp pebbles below the water..."

My sketching stops, as he had moved, but I was more intrigued by his statement. I quirk a brow up." You tell people?"

His smile twists stubbornly, as if wondering to himself if he should disclose the truth. " I really received it when I shaved for the first-time... I didn't really believe in how sharp obsidian is..."

" So you lied." I state teasingly." What happened to telling the truth always?"

His smile drops." I say 'one must earn the truth', even though speaking the truth is always best.... Besides, I was very young at the time, I knew nothing-"

"Excuses... excuses..." I say in a singsong voice, cutting him off.

Taking a another quick peek at him, he is not amused." You do not let things pass you, Aleenia."

His statement has me shrugging, even though I do not think here the are entirely familiar with the gesture." Maybe it is because I like to draw, I have to capture every small, to the pointless detail otherwise it is not realistic."

" But it also gives you the chance to make a picture the way you like, draw it the way you want it to look."

I look up to him, surprised by his bold claim." I like to draw the real world, real things..."

"I know... but you say you draw with the light... light creates shadows."

" Yes, shadows are the things I can not see, the things that are hidden. As there is no light there... I can not see everything-"

"Even if you want to?" he asks, as if reading my mind.

"I suppose, yes... I must be a curious person then." the conversation had taken a turn I find my self getting lost half way through in.

He nods his head, understanding." Then we have another something in common."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Hello everyone, sorry for it being a little late! I did say 6.00pm AEST but time seemed to get away from me...

So I hoped you liked the update, I like exploring Zachan's character, I hope you guys do to.

Please Vote and Comment, It means the world when you do!

So I shall try again for an update next Friday! And see if I can get into a rhythm doing it!

Love U all!