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“Don’t you think it’s weird we created a language?” Beth asks, stretching out her legs.
"What do ya’ mean?" Daryl takes a swig, and passes the bottle over.
"You know…a billion years ago people decided that random sounds would mean something. It’s strange, isn’t it?" She stares at the porch before meeting his eyes.
"Well I guess, if ya’ put it that way." Daryl fiddles with a piece of straw out of the corner of his mouth.
"How else would you put it?" Beth laughs, swirling the clear liquid around the jar.
"Guess it was bound to happen eventually." Daryl continues, "You thinkin’ about offering history lessons?" His tease is light, and a half smile makes its way across his features.
"Why, you thinkin about going back to school?" Beth bites back, and Daryl swears under his breath.
"Maybe if you’re teaching." He motions for the jar, which Beth passes over with a shake of her head.
"Do you have a favourite word?
"Favourite word?" He repeats.
"Y’know, a word that sounds best to you… We had to pick our favourite word in school for an English class."
"What did you pick?" His eyes narrow.
"No way, I asked you first."
"You’ve already had the time to think about it, s’only fair. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and he stretches out his own legs next to hers.
"Fine. Mine was luminescence."
"What, like light?"
"No-" Beth starts, "it’s more than that, it’s light that exists in and of itself." She shrugs. "I like the idea that some things in the world are made of light. Plus it sounds beautiful." She blushes and shakes her head.
"That’s probably stupid, isn’t it?" When she looks up she’s met with Daryl’s unwavering gaze.
"No, that’s not stupid. It suits you." He doesn’t break up his stare quickly enough, and is interrupted by her voice.
"So what’s yours, then?" Daryl looks out past the porch rails.
"I dunno."
"If you had to pick." Beth presses
"Alright. I guess I’ll choose bleat."
"What’s a bleat?" She asks as Daryl pulls the straw from his mouth.
"You’ll hear it sometimes when y’er hunting. It’s the sound a doe or fawn makes to let the other know where they are, or if they’re in trouble or somethin."
Beth nods, as she works the word around in her head.
Bleat.
She considers the different ways that mammals have to let others know they need help, and they all choose sounds.
Her eyes drift over his, which had lowered to his hands. They were busied and restless. Yes, most mammals use sound, but some never learned how.
She nudges him slightly with her foot, “I think it suits you too.”