His stomping is stopped as he comes to the edge of a river. At first he thinks about just turning and storming along it, but the look of the calm surface halts him, soothes him, and beckons him forward.

Shuffling closer, he puts the tips of his shoes against the edge of the river bank and crouches down, looking out over the water as it glimmers in slow dances, held snuggling in the embrace of the surrounding forest. Listening to it run, he’s surprised that he hadn’t heard it during his walk. Had he been that angry that he’d switched off some of his senses? He reaches out and wades his fingers through the water, the coolness of it connecting with his blood and his boil that had come to a simmer was now nothing than a few bubbles rising to the surface.

He makes a gruff noise as he shakes the water off and dries his hands on his pants, crossing his arms over his knees as he glares into the water. His glare fizzles and his eyes watch the immortal ripples as the river continues on, not changing anything for his presence. The sound fills his ears and it takes him a moment to realise he’s just been staring at the green banks in a lost awe. A breeze rolls through, sending an exciting tingle up his spine as he takes a deep breath.

‘Beautiful,’ he murmurs.

His worries fade with each blow of the winds and his anger travels down the river, quelled by the ever folding of the water. He shuffles back a little to sit on a grassy part of the bank, sitting cross legged and relaxing his arms at his side as he just continues to listen and watch, letting world around him empty his bottle and refill it with clean water. Every knot of tension has unwound itself and surrendered to the flow of the wind and water.

Footsteps sound behind him and without turning around, he can tell who the even and measured steps belong to. He lets them approach but brings his legs and arms back in, eyes still fixed on the water.

Mehri sit down in a similar position and only about half a meter away. He’s quiet for a moment, as if also caught up by the tranquility the river offers.

‘I’m sorry, Dane. I shouldn’t have yelled at you,’ Mehri eventually says, his voice low.

Dane lets out a heavy sigh, carrying the weight of his annoyance and his relief. ‘Nah, I shouldn’t have made fun of you. I mean, I didn’t think that you would react like that so I was just caught off guard.’ He rubs the back of his neck and looks at Mehri. ‘But it clearly hurt your feelings and so I’m sorry for that.’

Mehri’s brows raise before they settle again. He chuckles and looks from Dane to the water. ‘Thanks. But I’m still sorry for blowing up like that. I could tell as I was yelling that you weren’t intending to hurt me. I was just … so mad.’ He runs a hand through his hair and stretches out on the bank, prompting Dane to do the same. ‘Maybe we should always go to a flow of water whenever we have a disagreement.’

Dane gives a single syllable laugh and rubs his face. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever had an easier time apologising and reconciling.’

‘I think removing yourself from the situation helped,’ Dane agrees. ‘But also sitting out here is so damn calming. Like … it makes me wonder what I was even upset about?’

‘You were upset for a real reason.’

‘Yeah, I know that. I just meant … it feels like …’ He makes a thoughtful noise as his words are lost on the breeze.

‘Like there’s no point in holding onto the anger?’

‘Yeah … like that.’ Mehri closes his eyes and breathes in the moment. When he opens them again he says, ‘River must be guarded by the fae.’

Dane snorts a laugh. ‘They’d want something from us if that was the case. Think more like a chill deity who doesn’t want drama at her river.’

The river carries the sound of Mehri and Dane’s laughter. Dispersing it amongst the ripples and bubbles, leaving some on the grassy banks as the wind catches other parts of it and spreads it through the trees. The leaves flutter and the river continues to warble.

I continued writing this scene until it just faded from my mind’s eye, and by that I mean it just stopped building itself. Usually I’ll try to keep it going until it seems like it’s a reasonable “story” but I’m currently experimenting with stopping prompts as soon as the motivation runs out, this way I don’t get frustrated with trying to think of something more and it makes the rush of writing less burdened by expectations. I’ve started writing scenes for pieces I’m working on like this and it has been super helpful to getting productive writing done. A prompt might give me a couple hundred words but when I allow myself to write a scene as it builds—rather than build a scene as I write—and can smash out a few thousand words in about 20-30mins. Which does wonders for productivity and greasing the writing ⸜( ´ ꒳ ` )⸝