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Water

It’s warm today, and Water left his grass cloak draped behind them. He’s found an interesting rock. He would call it rust-colored, if he’d ever seen rust.

His friend Noon watches as he picks up one black rock and touches them together. He lets go, and the black rock falls away. He picks up another rock, quite similar to the eye–but when he takes his hand away it remains.

Noon is too astonished to be afraid. “What?” he asks, as Water turns the rocks together slowly. “How?”

Majk,” says Water: which is their word for “red,” and for “blood.”

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