memory lane

Visiting the rapids had become more bitter than sweet. The lava flow and rocks that had blocked the lower rapids weren't able to be moved by wolves alone. The upper stream still flowed freely, but it slammed into the rocks downstream and split into several thin, sad rivulets. It was nothing like the rapids of her youth - the stay away from there, the current will drag you under rapids, the louder than life rapids. She couldn't help herself from returning over and over again in the evenings, like picking a wound until it bled. She loathed it and she loved it.

Theory was settled upstream where the water still flowed quickly. Her blue eyes followed the water down until it hit the rocks; she stared long and hard, her gaze unshakable. They would find a way to restore the water's flow. She just needed time to think.