She quickly calmed herself and watched the deer in concern. How come he was still here? Why couldn't the zoo fix this? Were they really going to keep him here even though it was hurting him? Were they aware this was happening? They knew some got depressed, but were they aware to what extent?
"That one's sad too, huh?"
"Mmm." Anya said and leaned her forehead against the fence, realizing more and more that that was only the surface of it.
She couldn't help but relate to him somewhat. She hadn't exactly been going insane, but she'd been locked up too. She hadn't had freedom or help either, just like the deer staring blankly at the ground. Like the deer who now swayed on his hooves and contemplated the weeds he knew he should eat, but didn't want to—
. . .
. . .
. . .
Anya whipped her head around when she realized Damian had spoken to her. A jolt that he'd caught her fixing so intently on the deer and that he'd noticed.
He wasn't looking at her, but the same buck she'd turned away from, maintaining the relaxed demeanour he'd had all morning.
She hoped he didn't think she was being weird again.
"How can you tell?" He asked.
Dang it, of course he did.
He looked at her then and none of the agitation he often had in her presence permeated his thoughts. He stood in calm assurance and only Anya felt the foreboding it produced.
He was confident he would get to the bottom of this and he was ready to catch every clue that she might drop.
Anya regretted taking her time in one spot, she should have been watching for him. "Um. . . .because . . .it's obvious. . . " She fumbled, repeating her earlier words, though she could feel it carried less oomph. The deer had left her shaken and it still seized most of her thoughts. The force of unstableness had been slightly overwhelming and she didn't know how to handle it.
She'd come across many minds, many types, but not this. This was new territory and it was scary. She'd felt it pulling her in, infecting her own mind with the deteriorating confusion and deprived reasoning. What would have happened if this was a person? Would she have lost herself? Human minds were much stronger than an animal's, she was afraid if she came upon such an individual, she wouldn't be able to bring herself out.'No.' She thought. 'I've never found someone like that before, why should I ever?' She persuaded herself even as she brushed aside an intrusive thought to rip out the rods in her brain.
"Right. . . " Damian said, unconvinced, and she forgot he was there for a moment, so lost in her thoughts.
"Go away Damian." Becky shooed him with a hand absentmindedly, her gaze on a deer who sniffed curiously at her.
He ignored her. "I wonder if he's okay." He commented and Anya knew he was baiting her to say something. Anything that he could glean from.
She only looked back at the buck and didn't answer, mostly because she didn't know how.
"Maybe he'd eat something." Damian glanced at the apple slices a few students tempted the deer with.
"He doesn't—" He doesn't want to eat, she almost said. ". . . look hungry." She finished.
Damian noticed the hitch in her words. "I wonder why that one's sad." He gestured with a jut of his chin to another deer a little further away.
"What?" Anya's gaze was directed to a doe grazing on weeds who raised her head, mouth full, and looked about for predators as if she was in the wild, and went back to eating. She wasn't paying much attention to the kids but wasn't depressed or losing her sanity.
This confused Anya and she spoke without thinking. "She's not. . . sad. . . "
And when Damian looked at her in surprise, which he tried to hide, she understood too late what he was doing.
'Wait, seriously?' She heard him think when she tuned back in. Damian had half-expected he was wrong about her, despite his confidence. That it had all been in his head and he was looking for something that wasn't there. But she actually knew what the deer were thinking just by looking at them, how did she do that? Why she didn't want him to know about it?"Oh?" He said simply, thoughts racing in a jumbled mess and feeling smug at the same time.
"She. . ." Anya began to sweat. "Doesn't act the same way." She said, but it was too late. He knew she was lying, he was completely convinced he was on the right track, that he was right. That Anya had some sort of sixth sense.
"Huh." He said and Anya could have sworn she saw him smirk, but then it was gone.
CRAP! She thought.
Anya had to get out of there before he said anything else that was on his mind. He had too many questions and not enough answers, so she grabbed Becky's hand ready to drag her somewhere else.
"Huh? What?" Becky looked at her from the deer she'd been enraptured with.
"This way children." Mr. Gable called and swept his arm for them to follow before Anya could go anywhere, the teachers counting heads as the students formed into loose lines.
As it was, Damian ended up right behind her.
He was feeling triumphant over the victory, and also baffled. It eased the doubt he'd been having, while entirely confounded on how Anya did what she did.
Anya broke away from him as soon as they spread out to study the next animals, pulling Becky with her. She skirted around Damian through the next couple stops and prevented him from getting a glimpse of her if she could help it. And before Anya knew it, they were stopping for lunch in a picnic area that looked like a barn without walls. The two girls found a table as far away from Damian and his friends as they could and Anya felt calmer.
It's not like he would actually find out. Who in their right mind would seriously think telepathy was possible? Even her Papa hadn't considered it until he saw hard evidence, and Damian wasn't going to get that. Anya refused to stay in a state of anxiety because Damian was curious. She would just have to be more careful, more alert. He wouldn't ever find out.
Anya used this to comfort herself and relaxed.
He wouldn't ever find out. He wouldn't.
She pulled out her pre-packed lunch as everyone else did, and many of them were unaccustomed to food that hadn't been made just minutes before they ate it.
"I can't believe I wasn't allowed to bring my chef and a barbecue." Becky was saying. "Would it really be so bad to have some freshly cooked meat?" She said as she brought out her fancy cuisine.
"That's not enough?" Anya referred to the decadent meal of generous proportions that had fit in her bag against all odds.
"Of course it is, but it's . . . .it's not the same."
"Are you going to eat all of it?" Anya asked, eyeing the sausages, any interest lost in Becky's plight.
"Of course not, I'd explode. Here. You can have some." Becky shared it with Anya, and Anya shared her's with Becky.
They had a lively discussion on the animals they saw while they ate, and which ones they'd want as pets. Anya was sure she'd want a gorilla, and Becky was adamant it was a bad idea.
The thirty minutes designated for eating went quickly and the teachers gathered them all up to continue on to the sumatran elephant.
The kids flocked to a fence yet again and marvelled at the size of the large mammal. The elephant paid them no attention as the guide rattled off facts about her and it was immediately clear to Anya that the elephant was annoyed these noisy pink flesh bags were disturbing her once peaceful afternoon. She was a cranky old lady who had used up all her patience in her long life and would much rather enjoy some peace and quiet than deal with squealing, rambunctious balls of chaos. She very obviously turned away from Mr. Gable and walked in the other direction when he called her name. A grouchy attitude as she ambled off into the large pen that led Anya to catch sight of something in the distance.
The pen was viewable from multiple angles and Anya noticed someone standing on the opposite side a good fifty metres away. She didn't mean to give them another thought, but there was a familiar aspect to them. She felt compelled to identify this person who stood shadowed under a tree. She strained to make them out against the sun glaring in her eyes and the distance that muddled their image. She used a hand as a visor and it helped to see their stance that even looked familiar, the way they held themself. Their dark clothing was obvious in the bright afternoon, and it was hard to tell, but she was sure they were looking at her too.
She didn't need to see the face then, because she saw the hair and why they felt familiar. Why she couldn't stop looking.
Why she knew them.
Her hand lowered almost unknowingly. Her fingertips turned white from the pressure applied to the fence.
She wasn't sure she was breathing when the world stopped.