Walter noticed that his boyfriend had been acting a bit off lately. It was normal for him to be running off somewhere due to his job as a nurse, but he always made it up to Walter. Oliver always made sure to text Walter in advance if a shift came up or for his absence the next morning. Walter didn’t mind because he does the same thing. Walter’s job kept him busy so he’s always on the run too. He understood. Life was busy. Besides, communication and trust were a fundamental factor during their two-year relationship. And it worked, right?

However, for the past month, Walter realized that Oliver’s absences had become more frequent. The texts and calls in advance had lessened. Initially, he was calm about it, though a bit disappointed. There had to be a reasonable explanation.

Then, it got worse. On the rare chance they had a night in together, Oliver tried to hide welts and bruises that covered his entire body. This concerned Walter. If fact, he was livid and demanded to know who. But, Oliver awkwardly chuckled and replied that there was an unruly patient that day. Scratches and bruises were a bit normal. This, though, was excessive. Walter bit his tongue; he was not convinced but let the subject go as Oliver looked not entirely comfortable talking further about it.

However, last night, Walter came home to discover a costume soaked in blood on the floor. He stepped back-dizzy- and held onto the kitchen counter for support. It felt like he was just sucker punched. Where was Oliver?

He saw blood droplets on the floor, which led to the hall where the bathroom and bedroom are at. Walter needed to calm down. Acting out on emotion was not his style. He needed to be strategic about his next move. Walter grabbed a large knife and stealthy made his way to the bathroom first. He must make sure Oliver was okay before seeing if the assaulters where still in the apartment.

The droplets led to the bathroom door. It was propped open and Walter could feel the humidity seeping through. As he closed in he could hear groaning inside. In one movement, he steeled himself and opened the door.

In the bathroom, submerged in glowing water, was Oliver. Walter stood mesmerized by the sight, as water tendrils floated around the room.

“Oliver?”

Wide eyed, Oliver shot up from the bath and turned to Walter. Tendrils stilled in the air. Oliver was pale and, frankly, looked just like a fish out of water. Walter wanted to laugh at his lover’s priceless expression, but the mood was not appropriate. In fact, Walter thought Oliver went into actual shock. He took that moment to assess the damage. The would-be-fatal wound on Oliver’s stomach started to heal nicely. Of course, the water was healing him.

He cautiously glided towards his boyfriend, set the knife quietly on the counter, and kneeled over the tub. He gingerly cupped Oliver’s face into is hand, thumb gently rubbing his cheek. It wasn’t until Walter placed his forehead on Oliver’s until he snapped back into reality.

“W-Walter, I-I-I can explain-“ he croaked.

“Shhh,” Walter tenderly reassured,”it’s okay.”

“No! No no it’s not okay, Walt. At all” Oliver pulled away, tears in his eyes.

“I-I lied to you. All these years! That’s far from okay. It’s not. And and I’ve been telling you lies as to why I was late for dates or-or not at home because I’m really... I’m the Water Guardian.”

“Yes, yes, I know that. The world’s most moist superhero.”

“What?” Walter blinked.

“You’re not exactly great at keeping secrets, well, except for-“

“No, not about that. Also, yes, that. But what you just said. That I’m the “world’s most moist superhero”. Only the Vixen says that. Wait a moment. Walt, are you...?”

“Wait, did you now know? Oh darling, we have much to discuss but that’s for later.

“For now, please be truthful: who has been after you?” Walt’s soulless grin exposed sharp teeth and eyes turned into shadows “I wish to hunt down this nuisance who has dared to lay a finger on my love.”

I could smell it in the air before I could it see it. Usually, smelling rain in the air has a calming affect on me. Not today. Today, I could smell rain, electricity, and something more sinister on its way. Today, the threat of a tornado hang heavily like a ominous vulture waiting to make its strike.

Calmly and quickly, I stop what I am doing and put away my gardening tools and call for Frida, my dog. Nothing. I jog to the other side of the house. Still no sign of her. I yell her name again and my heart starts to race. The clouds start to stir and fight with each other. They are black and mustard yellow now. Not always a bad sign but it doesn’t sit right.

Where in the world could she be, I think. There’s no doggy door and our property backs onto a forest. Most days she responds when being called. What’s holding her up? It’s only a matter of time before-

The eerie wail of the siren goes off.

I swear under my breath. Darting to the back door, I stop to grab a leash, a flare gun, and peanut butter. I don’t know if want I’m about to do it smart. What I do know is I need to find her. I need her to be safe.

I sprint out into the back lawn into the woods. Rain starts to sprinkle a bit. Rain, I can handle. A tornado, less so. I call out for her. The wind picks up more. I call for her again. I open the peanut butter, hoping she can smell it from wherever she’s at.

A small voice in the back starts to panic. It called me an idiot and tells me I’m in the most dangerous place to be. That I need to get out now and find shelter. I shove the voice away. Frida is family. I won’t leave her behind.

Banshee cries from the siren still echo. The trees rock back and forth just a little too much for comfort. While the forest is not too dense, this is the worse possible place to be. Tree limbs and branches start to fly off; a few wack me in the process.

I’m still screaming for Frida. My throat starts to crack. The voice in the back of my mind is getting too loud to ignore. I’m starting to doubt if I can find her in time. “You’re going to die out here” the voice says. Emotions threaten to over take me. I scream and scream and scream for Frida until I find it hard to breathe.

I don’t know how much time I have but the falling trees and push of the wind against my body say I need to make a choice now. I’m no where near any buildings. If I run back to the house now, I may not make it in time. Up ahead there is a semi-shallow cliff. “Shall I make another poor decision today?” I sarcastically say to myself.

I throw the flare gun over the cliff. As it hits the ground, I prepare to gently guide myself down the cliff. One of the tree near me has another idea. A previously fallen tree trunk rolls toward me at an alarming speed.

It’s weird to think books and movies are a bit right when they life can flash before your eyes. I don’t feel my heartbeat. Noise ceases exist. “Ah, so this is how I die?” My mind whispers. But my body disagrees. It kicks into overdrive and instructs my instincts to take over. My body pushes itself off the ledge and braces itself as it rolls down the hill. My arms cover my face and neck. My whole being pleads with the tree trunk not to follow.

It’s rocky and every roll of my body hurts more than the last. I think I stop. But everything goes dark. ///// Perhaps, not all dumb ideas turn out terrible. I awake to the smell of peanut butter. Frida licks my face and a paramedic calls out to me.

Over few days, I get updates (and scolding) from local authorities while I recover in the hospital. Not only was my house flattened by the tornado but the debris caused my gas line to explode, catching most of the property on fire. Dumb luck or not, if it wasn’t for Frida, I wouldn’t be alive.

They start small, barely branching out Shy, unsure They’re patient without a doubt But seeing their siblings wake up Encouraged, reaching Arms, legs, limb they stretch Sun is their goal Like Icarus, gloating at high achievements

Tiny dancers in sync with one another Untirelessly dancing night and day Weather-pay no heed Conjoined strength is all they need

Though they are mortal Time brings in their mortal coil Limbs and shapes give into the exhaustion Painstakingly stills with caution

Wind they used to dance with ease Is now part of their parting pleas The system that was so bold and strong Is now unloosening its swan song

The tiny dancers move once more Gracefully falling to the Autumn floor

It started when I began to fetch water from the nearby river. Our well wasn’t working properly so I was tasked with making the journey to and from the river at least twice a day. Mother was worried that my health may deteriorate with carrying the heavy load daily as I was already prone to sickness. However, Mother and my oldest brother are busy on our farm and things have been busier since my younger brother went off into the city to help bring money in. I thought this was the perfect opportunity to leave the mundane minor chores around the chores and sewing as to not exert myself. I’d feel more useful doing something more proactive. After much convincing, Mother relented and allowed me to fetch water as long as I was not gone for more than two hours at a time and that I made it back before sundown.

The first day felt adventurous since I don’t typically stray too far from home without someone with me. The day was cloudy and it rained the night before. I was warned the night previous from Mother about the rising waters of the river. However, like the optimistic fool I was, I was too distracted with the forest’s beauty to notice the rock I used to stable my footing had loosened and fell into the river, taking me with it.

I braced myself for the chilled early spring waters when I felt and soft tug at my back. The force was enough to pull me and my pail in one swoop. I opened my eyes and slowly got up to see who pulled me from plunging into the deep waters. Strangely, not a soul was around. However, as a soft breeze fluttered about, I could have sworn I heard a voice say “Be safe”. I shook off the thought and quickly made my way back with a pail full of water in hand. Mother wasn’t too pleased about my dirtied clothes but I made the excuse that I had slipped on some mud on my way.

That night I couldn’t stop thinking about the force that pulled me out of harms way and the voice I thought I heard. I am not religious by any means but our family respects the Old Ways and the Elders. If, by any chance, it was a forest spirit that saved me, then I should return the favor of a small offering.

Next morning, I snuck some bread and cheese into my sack and made my way out for the first trip for water. I went back to the same place were I had pulled water. I looked to find a suitable place to put my offering. I remember Papa had once told us that forest spirits never wish to be seen but are always watching so that we must always respect the land as we are always observed. With that in mind, I settled for under a nearby shrub to place my offering of thanks. I placed the food under the shrub, whispered “Thank you”, and went to go fill up the pail. When I sank the pail into the water, there was a slight rustling from the shrub I just walked from.

When I got up from my spot, I set the pail down and peered closer into the shrub. There, my offerings I placed were no longer to be found. I left smiling, knowing I had made a friend within the forest.