username; SilhouetteStation
name; Destan
(French; 'by the still waters')
gender; Male
prompt;
The morning was still; dawn had broken bright and clear, the sky a palest blue. Few clouds drifted lazily on the horizon. The top of the lake was like glass. Destan stared at it now, gazing down into his own reflection like looking into a mirror. He wasn't sure how long he'd been in the same position, crouched near the edge, nose a hairs breadth from the water.
In one elegant move he glided into the lake, surface rippling as his body was submerged. Instantly he felt refreshed, cool energy surging through his core as he dove. Underneath he swam across the bottom, letting his hands brush over the stones and reeds. Above, shafts of light streamed down. The water made him feel many things, but he had to describe it in one word, he would say it felt like home.
He supposed it was his home. He was a water sprite, after all, and this was his lake to protect. It was a job he both loved and cherished. Yes, he knew technically he was bound to this lake, but that gave him no grief. Why would he want to leave anyway, when he had fallen in love with his little piece of the world?
The water was his friend; an extension of his own body, a piece of his soul. It was all he'd ever known. He loved the water, and he believed the water loved him.
He emerged now, shaking droplets from his fur. They caught the sunlight as they fell, making rainbows in the air. At the edge of his lake was a small cluster of trees and large rocks, which was also part of his home. He lay down on one of these rocks on the shade, a hand lazily dangling in the water.
It would be a peaceful day today. He could feel it. Perhaps the children would come to swim again, and he could make little waves for them to splash around in. Or maybe he would spend the day alone, enjoying the serenity of the lake, and watching dragonflies skim across the surface.
It was a warm feeling, knowing that by taking care of the thing he loved, the thing he was connected to, he was also bringing happiness to those who ventured to his home. For him, being a water sprite was definitely a wonderful thing to be.
(397/400)