I have to get out of here. The tree is ablaze, and it’s dangerous. Wait, my treasures!

  I quickly regather all my precious plunder into the big back skin with clumsy, scrambling hands, beating the flames off of a few. Everything regathered, I clamber down, slide, and eventually jump the last bit of tree trunk, rolling hard as I hit the ground. Wide eyed and shell shocked, I look up at my creation. The tree is completely aflame and it’s about to spread. I must run again!

  My legs transition into the fast, staccato beat of the first song, shooting me off into the distance and away from the danger. The direction doesn’t matter. It’d be good to avoid the big ones, but I can’t remember where they were. Plus it’s been so long now, they most likely moved. There’s no way they live in that clearing. This danger is worse. Bigger danger. I’ll simply head straight away and hope for the best.

  The heat somehow builds behind me. It’s as though it’s running faster than I am, chasing me. Is it still angry at me? Can I apologize and calm it? No, no, that’s silly. I can barely speak my mind and intent. The unpreventable rudeness would only anger it more!

  As my mind struggles to make sense of the pursuer, all the effort causes another shift. My eyes clear, and I notice a strong wind pushing hard against my back. The wind! It’s spreading the fire in my direction. How foolish of me! I must have run with the wind because it was naturally easier to go with it than against it. However, now the fire is almost upon me. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

  Sharply turning to the right, I never cease the run. The heat no longer chases as closely, but it’s clearer now why I unconsciously followed the wind. Leaning into the wind as I run is an enormous effort. It’s so strong! Can I make any good progress at all if I head directly into it? Have I awakened two angry world spirits instead of one?

  Must focus ahead instead of on what’s behind. I need to find another refuge to protect me from both the fire and wind. My mind shifts again, this time only a slight pain. From both the fire and storm. I’ll need cover from the coming rains too. There might also be–

  Crack!

  A tree explodes in a loud flash right beside me as I pass by without stopping. My ears ring from the intense sound, uselessly lost in a quiet world now. However, I must keep going. I can’t stop.

  My barely rested body somehow holds up until coming upon a sizable river dividing the land. This can protect me from the fire! Even better, a series of broken and battered rocks speckle across, forming a perfect crossing for my nimble, little feet. Too easy! I enthusiastically dance across each stone, one loving note at a time in celebration of the accomplishment.

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  One angry pursuer down, I erratically search through my senses for shelter from the storm. Still unable to hear even the babbling river, I forcefully close my mind to the lingering ringing. The sky has become deeply darkened by both stormclouds and smoke from the now distant fire. My eyes don’t need much, but all the constant chaos around me in this unfamiliar environment blinds my ability to perceive anything of merit. They’re useless for this search.

  Instead, I choose to listen to something from within my mind mud. I close both eyes and deeply inhale through my nostrils. A whole new world maps out before me. Storm evading trails of woodland creatures darting off in unison. The slowly encroaching edge of smoke from the fires. The rasping, smokey carcass left after every storm strike. The chattering trees, as they warn one another of the coming dangers.

  I can see so much, yet understand so little of value. Searching for something familiar, I maintain a state of deep rhythmic breathing, repeatedly gathering in all the invisible, floating essences around me. Within the mess, a quiet call whispers out and beckons. Mud calls to mud.

  My eyes snap open. Having a direction, I immediately shoot towards it. The storm is dangerous, but not if there’s a home here. Home is safe. Home is good.

  Travelling along the riverside, the trees begin to part to a barren rock floor, which gradually climbs into rough hills. Then a sharp, tall mountain climbs up in the distance. My breath leads me up into the jagged hills of the mountain’s base but not far. After a short ascent, I see a cave. A dark, burrowed hole descending sharply down below. It absolutely reeks of dirt, decay, and death. It’s perfect!

  I sprint inside, unwary of what might lie waiting. This place called to me, and my nose wouldn’t lie. A dearly invited guest will not be betrayed. There’s nothing to fear down here.

  My eyes relax as soon as I enter the darkness. It’s so much more comfortable inside here. No storm, no out of control flames, no big ones. The big ones would probably hate it here! Stupid, unsophisticated beasts.

  The beautiful, ragged halls direct me smoothly down at an easy to handle angle. The end of the entryway terminates at a spacious room, covered almost everywhere in mud. The powerful smell is glorious. I can make a home here. A temporary home? At least until I get back to home home. Beginning home? First home? Best home? Until I rejoin my brothers.

  I take the big skin off my back, laying it and the curved stick on a large stone protruding from the mud in the corner. Thinking for a moment, I also undo the skin string around my waist and take off the large skin cover from my body as well. It’s incredibly relieving, as if freeing myself of a heavy burden. The harsh weight of the treasure must truly speak of its extraordinary value.

  Safety secured, no I only want to get closer to the mud. Must be a good guest and give proper thanks. Walking to the center of the room, I sit down, deeply sinking in with a wet squelch. The cool, soothing touch across my crossed legs is heavenly. Bending forward, I lay my hands, arms, chest, and face into the chilly, wet embrace as well. Joyous bubbles of air slowly tickle out from my mouth, sloppily bobbing back to the surface through the mud.

  I feel so rejuvenated. Rebuilt? I needed this, but why? Also, something’s missing. Something important. This is good mud, but it’s younger brother mud. Weaker and undeveloped. The bigger brother mud at home was so different.