Sometimes, Huyana wondered what the Raindancer would do if they met again: would he be proud? ashamed? would he even recognize his own blood. The last he had seen her, the roan had been still half a girl, a dreamer, a protagonist. Her ideals still had burned hot within her, contrary to what her passive element would suggest. But as fire consumes and water erodes, over time her desires and aspirations became impossible dreams. Too many times had she attempted to right the world, cure her society of its maladies, and it burdened her with a sense of failure, and she became a cynic. Why try to save a dying man if his fate was sealed in his eyes?

Why did she keep returning here if darkness always lapped at her heels?

His answer was a simple word, curt and concise. She had expected no more, but it hurt her the same; how could a land go without the soft spray of early morning drizzles? The controlled ferocity of a summer downpour? Her dark head bowed with somber thoughts, eyes turned down to face the ruined footing below her. If she could not summon the will to make it rain, who could? No matter how much she urged those fleeting droplets from the heavens, they would not fall. She mourned, she let herself fall into decay while her heart still beat its desperate tune.

Deimos drew away from the shore, water swirling in his wake. He looked so natural in her element, rivulets of liquid washing over his glistening body. She thought it an invitation - to what? Blue eyes gave him a lingering glance, wondering. Another hoof joined the first, both slipping in the loose mud as she hesitated. Slowly, the steam enveloped her, stroking her jaw, her throat, her chest; it immediately made her feel more alive, more.. herself. With caution, she sidled into the water, stifling a gasp of gratification as the warm water enveloped her limbs. It was a wonderful feeling, and for the first time in much too long, Huyana felt at ease. She closed her eyes in bliss as her body sunk deeper into the warmth, encompassing her belly, her shoulders, her spine, until only her neck remained dry, mane swirling carelessly about her.

For a while, only the bubbling of the hot spring sang above the silence, and Huyana let one eye open, watching the general's lips pressing into the steaming liquid. All her inhibitions washed away with the dirt and ash, her worries and her nightmares, every regret she'd ever had. Sometimes she wondered if instead of the usual red, her blood was water; and instead of the Raindancer and his consort, if her parents were the rain and the sea. She pondered this quietly, all the while letting her eye rove over the water's surface, curiously watching the ripples Deimos made as he drank; there was distance between their bodies, but she could feel the small waves lap against her own. All beings can become united in water, no mater how physically far they may be.

""