I saw a Sora stepping through the grass seeming somewhat tipsy, and tripping over twigs. Toes tangled in the reeds, head nodding with each stride, forward, backward, side-to-side. Hoping, praying, pleading, to achieve some poise and some aplomb right there on solid ground. Seeing me, the Sora froze, then made a clumsy dash, fumbling furiously through the weeds and to the refuge of the creek. The rest remains a blur, her body morphed, now swift and sleek. She tiptoed through the swamp, with newfound grace, fluency, and ease. Across the water and between the reeds, she ducked and glided, seemed to slither. Then with one look back I think she winked as she slipped clean out of sight.
