Sunrise

They sneak behind the bowed body of Tierra, reaching to pluck a single hair. And from their own eyes, they shed a single tear, hiding the glowing drop in their palm.

“What boon then, are you giving them?” Cielo asks.

“To run. To travel wherever the land calls them. Like your swifts and clouds. The winds that run into Santa Ana.” Tierra offers one rough leg up, passing it to Cielo’s palm.

Cielo smiles, pressing the drop deep below skin. “You honor me.”

It was not an honor to share a need with these things. But it would be no matter, not with the drop of their own blood, a deadly lure in need of a hook.

“Will you do the same?” Tierra asks.

“Yes, let me honor you. When we are done, bring me your creations, to give my blessings—and to receive gifts in turn.” Cielo stands, dragging down a wave of clouds to ride towards the sea.

Tierra nods, pleased in this order, and goes back to work.