Rivers used to hurry too.
They were told where they were going
and felt responsible for getting there quickly.
They aimed straight for the lowest point.
They cut through land without looking around.
They treated bends as mistakes.
People admired this.
It looked purposeful.
It looked correct.
Then Pebble met a river.
It was moving very seriously,
pulling itself forward,
ignoring everything beside it.
Pebble ran along its edge.
She splashed in once.
Then again.
Then crossed to the other side just because it was there.
The river tried to keep going straight.
Pebble did not.
She followed the softer ground.
She curved around stones.
She went wherever the path felt easier.
The river noticed this.
It slowed down.
It shifted slightly.
It followed her around one bend.
Then another.
The river realized something then.
Straight was not better.
Fast was not kinder.
Arriving was not the only reason to move.
It could wander.
It could take its time.
It could see more of the land it passed through.
So now rivers curve.
They loop.
They double back.
They take the long way without apology.
When people look at a winding river
and wonder why it doesn’t go straight,
they don’t call it inefficient.
They say,
“Pebble must have shown it the way.”
Mohg crosses rivers wherever they allow him to.
He never asks them to hurry.
The river appreciates that.
It flows as it likes now,
taking its time,
touching more ground than it ever did before.
