The sun burned high and hot, and he cared nothing for foolish giants like the rabbit warily chewing in the shade of the hedge. The ripples in the stream reflected in flashes under the maple leaves, and Siof raced from cusp to cusp drinking in their water-tempered light.
“Greedy one! Leave some for me!” Mog whistled at him.
“You’re as slow as a moondrinker! Dance! A cloud is coming!”
She beat him to the next and laughed red lilac at him as she skimmed on. He dashed after her breathing red pine. “So strong you are!” she giggled.
A thousand sips later they rested on the wings of a dragonfly and let the haze from the river wash them until the sun should come out again.
The young giant of the trampled shore skipped a stone into the river, and for once got its angle almost right. Siof and Mog leaped to the stone and rode it spinning into splash after splash. The sun came out just in time for the last splash, and as the rock sank the two flew into the light focussed by the water, racing higher faster and faster as the focus moved into the sky.
At tree top height they dove again.
“What do you think Mirabel will take as her fourth syllable tonight?” Mog asked. “I can’t imagine being that old.”
Siof chased flashes among the reeds. “One day you will be, young one, but never as old as she.”
Mog balanced on a water strider. “One day I’ll have a longer name too, and then you’ll see.”
Siof swung close to a fish’s splash and reflected the sun flash to her. “Maybe I’ll loan you a part of mine.”
“Is that a promise?” Mog whispered.
The wind shook the river birch. Siof flew through its cloud of pollen, dancing around its swirls in the air. “Catch me if you can!”
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