Author: not Ross PM
East Wind and West Wind always fight. But when one angry pelican steps in, the Winds are going to have to change their ways a bit - a "Native American creation myth," so is Fable the right spot for it? Hm.Rated: Fiction K - English - Words: 784 - Published: 09-01-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3054919
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(Author's note: yes, this is another one I had to write for school, but don't let that stop you. An Indian – 'scuse me, Native American – creation myth. I thought it would be, like, the worst assignment in the world, but once I actually figured out what to write, it was pretty fun! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! ~not Ross)
In the sky above the ocean lived two spirits called East Wind and West Wind. These were the names given to them by the seagulls that flew past their dwellings every day. Each lived in his individual cloud because both of them were terrified of the ocean that rolled and flowed hundreds of feet below them, and they hated each other. They never agreed on anything; whenever they saw each other, they did nothing but argue. No matter what the subject – be it philosophy or sports or politics or the daily dramas of the humans that sometimes sailed beneath their clouds – the Winds did not agree on a single thing. The Winds yelled at one another. When East Wind yelled, her words rode the back of an icy stream of air that froze the tips of any passing seagull's wing feathers. This might have been a problem for the local seagulls if West Wind did not have the opposite problem. West Wind's words sizzled in a tunnel of air so fast and hot that any passing seagulls would catch fire and fall into the distant ocean far below. The breath of the Winds clashed in the space between their clouds and made balmy currents of air that the younger and more daring seagulls liked to surf on. This is how it was.
One day, a pelican and his son decided to fly high up into the sunny air above the ocean for a leisurely talk and some good exercise. They saw a flock of seagulls soaring in a space between two clouds and decided to join them. What they did not know was that this was a time of great argument between the Winds, and the flock of seagulls they saw was the group of young and daring seagulls who surfed the currents from the Winds' yelling. The pelican's son was swept west by the tumbling air and incinerated with West Wind's hot breath.
"What is the meaning of this?" demanded the pelican of the Winds. He was distraught over the loss of his son, and his sorrow soon turned to anger against the Winds that killed the little bird.
"It is West Wind's fault!" screeched East Wind.
"It is East Wind's fault!" West Wind retorted. "She has started this battle!"
The pelican was not interested in who was at fault for the death of his son. He was angry at both of them. He let out a loud squawk and flew forward at a startling pace, and then he popped both clouds with his long beak. The Winds screamed and scrambled to catch other clouds as they fell, but East Wind's frozen hands slipped off every cloud she touched, and the steam from West Wind's screaming scorched away all the clouds within her reach. They sent up a current of air so tremendous that all the seagulls surfed on it all the way down to the surface of the ocean. The Winds landed with a splash and a scream, and they sank and sank until they hit the sandy bottom, covered in slippery ocean weeds and schools of confused fish. Both of them were very afraid.
"This is your fault!" screeched East Wind once they got used to their surroundings.
"This is your fault!" West Wind retorted.
And since they had no longer to fear falling from their clouds, the Winds began to chase each other in circles on the bottom of the ocean. East Wind's breath still froze the fins of passing fish, and West Wind still scorched whales as they passed. The fish learned to surf the water currents just as the seagulls used to do way above the water. Soon, the Winds both took wrong turns and became separated from each other. They vowed to never rest until the other was dead and gone.
To this day, the Winds run across each other and rekindle their ancient screaming matches. The surface of the water ripples and churns, and if the Underwater Winds chase each other for long enough, the top of the ocean rages up into a whirling trap and travels towards the land. Men of the land have called these arguments of the Winds "hurricanes" since that first day when the Winds plummeted from the sky.