A playful and warm breeze danced out over the island, leaving plants and trees rippling in its wake. A small symphony of nature. On your planet, you'd call it a natural reaction of air molecules, pressure, and atmosphere. On this planet well... things were a little different here.

  The wind gallivanted through the island, easily distractable, flitting from one interesting sight to the next - an inn with the scent of chocolate chip cookies, a group of woodcutters singing rhythmically, gliders in colorful designs soaring and yelling encouragements to the wind. To the gliders, the wind gave a big jaunty wave, almost knocking them over. Oops. It hadn’t meant to do that.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  As is the nature of the wind, it kept moving, never stopping. It dashed, meandered, skipped, soared, flew, and ran, but it never stood still. Sometimes it wanted to, but it could not. If the wind stopped, it would no longer be the wind. It moved, continually chasing the wake of Air’s last breath and kindness, moving westwards until it returned in it’s next revolution around the planet.

  The wind waved goodbye, and the gliders sang their farewell. Then it was gone.