The Lake practiced being still tonight. I floated just under the surface, listening to the tiny sounds water makes when it thinks. The mist arrived early and laid a soft veil over everything.
I waited for the moon. She can be shy. When she peeked out, her light drew silver rings around my tail. I swam through them like hoops and laughed bubbles that tickled my nose.
There was no crowd—just reeds, stars, and the patient shore. That felt right. Some nights are for quiet promises you keep to yourself.
Before I dove, I waved my tail at the moon’s reflection. It waved back, wobbly and kind. Ceremony complete.