The curious burrowing creature, little more than a blob of brown fur, short legs and big black eyes, crawled tentatively from its hole. It sniffed the air with its squat black nose as its eyes adjusted to the light. Around its den were the familiar grasses and foliage; short stiff blades beneath tall palms and banyans, their leaves the bright green of a tropical summer. Its sensitive ears could hear the splash of waves on the beach not far, where the ground became too sandy to burrow and the water became too salty to drink.

It immediately scanned the sky for predators, seeing only a few seabirds playing in the breeze, before lowering its snout to the thing that had called it from its den.

The animal had never seen a human before, nor an elf, an orc or any other demi-human, but somehow it could tell what the bipedal figure that lay before it was. Something about her seemed familiar, no more alien then the sky or the sea or the land; as though she was composed not of flesh and blood but of the very things that made up these forces of nature.

The nature-person lay on her chest, her legs crossed and raised behind her, her arms folded beneath her bosom. Deep auburn hair the color of fall leaves spilled over her shoulders, and though the animal couldn’t distinguish this, she was as naked as the day she was born. Her smooth, peach-colored skin, free of any blemish or imperfection, was slightly damp from the wet sea air, and an expression of pleased contentment illuminated her visage.

“Hey there little one,” she said, scratching it behind the ears. The animal didn’t flinch from her small hand, and gurgled in pleasure as she petted it.

“Who’d have thought something as cute as you lived all the way out on this tiny little island?”

The animal made a noise, a quiet little squeak, and the nymph nodded, a knowing smile on her face.

“Yeah, there’s land on the other side of the waters, tons of it. You wouldn’t’t belive the places I’ve seen; swamps filled with mud and bugs and twisted trees, mountains covered in snow-that’s like water but so cold it decides to huddle up and turn solid-forests with trees ten times as big as these. And there’s these places called cities, or towns, or villages, im not sure what the distinction between those are, even after all these years. Full of people-”

The animal squeaked again.

“Right, should have known. Full of really smart, loving, amazing animals that walk on two legs. But they can be short sighted and ignorant too. They chop up trees and rocks and things to make huge nests and dens for themselves, and they don’t think about other forms of life but themselves."

It crawled forward on its stubby little legs, squeaking as it did so.

"No, I dont I blame them or anything, but they don’t try to coexist with the world like we do. It can be frustrating, you know? When you spend three winters teaching a few families how to live in harmony with the world only to find twice as many across the valley doing the exact opposite.”

The animal walked out a little bit further and rubbed itself on her side and added another series of gurgles.

“No, I’m very fond of them, you little cutie. The people I mean, I don’t think I’ve seen anything, except maybe other nymphs, with such a capacity for affection, for love, as them. But it’s a high canopy-low floor thing I guess. They can be pretty rotten too. Ignorant and selfish, even if they don’t mean to be.”

Fernweh sighed and stroked her animal partner, rolling over to gaze at the sky. She hadn’t had a companion to talk to since the crab on the seafloor followed her for miles on the swim over here, and the crustacean wasn’t a very good listener. Always talking about its shell and how long it took him to grow it.

 “The cities can be nice, but they’re all so…unnatural. That’s why I came out here, to see someplace new, someplace totally isolated, virginal, pure. Someplace people had never been to. Someplace to just relax and forget all these years of wandering.”

The burrower fumbled climbing up her smooth body and curled up atop her abdomen, ticking her with its coarse fur and making her giggle. It was nice to forget her long journey for a day, to curl up with a cuddly companion and just vent what was on her mind. To not have to wear the restricting garments civilized folk forced themselves into, to get back to the truly wild places for a bit. She’d been following a busy seaside road that connected two large human settlements, and a nice girl from one of the villages she’d stayed in told her about a faraway island sailors reported hearing about, but that the water was too rough to approach.

Naturally, she had to go see what this mysterious island was, if only for the sake of having been there. Like all her kin, she was an expert swimmer, and could compel the tides to abate for her, to let her pass unharmed.

“Yeah, I haven’t had a home-oh, like a den-of my own for a long time. Every time I think I’ve found the perfect spot I hear about one not so far away that sounds even better, and, well, I’ve got to check it out, don’t I? My, it must have been twenty, maybe twenty two summers since I stayed in one place for a whole year.”

Suddenly, just as Fernweh finished her sentence, a great wave crashed against the beach, seemingly arriving out of nowhere, foam and spray flying high into the air. Clouds raced through the sky, wisps of cirrus racing to surround the island like a puffy halo, confusing the seabirds into a panic. The great wave rose back up as if it were alive, like a scorpion’s tail rearing for another strike, and hung there, suspended by some magical force.

Fernweh smiled at the wave, gently waving a hand at the animated water.

“It has been eighty three summers since you thought you had found a new home,” said the wave. It didn’t speak with sound, but Fernweh could understand what it said nonetheless. It’s voice was in the shape of it’s foam, it’s curvature, the way part of it crashed and rolled. This was the way it spoke, and Fernweh knew that every wave spoke like this. This one had only decided that conversation was more important than completing its journey from the open ocean, more important than finally crashing itself on the shore.

“And over nine hundred since you left your first home. And another six hundred since you Became, oh Fernweh the wanderer, Fernweh the lost.”

Fernweh sat up now, startling the creature which squeaked in surprise at the nymph’s sudden movement.

“Well you’ve got my attention, wave. Anything else you’d like to tell me before you crash? And how does a wave from all the way out here know all this?”

“I am not just a wave,” said the wave. “I am the tsunami, the typhoon. I am the eddy and the ebb, the riptide and the whirlpool, the current of all currents. I am the ocean, Fernweh, the source of all waters, the greatest of all things on this earth.”

Then the ring of wispy clouds around the island suddenly turned heavy and dark, as though a thunderstorm was immenent. Fernweh’s eyes widened in shock as tiny bolts of heat-lightning arced between clouds, a sign that the sky was angry. 

“You? Source of all waters? Greatest thing on earth?” Said the clouds, their voice communicating in their movements, the tiny changes in pressure and humidity they controlled analogous to language.

“Tell an inland lake that and it’d spit a river back out at you, you bloated body of salt! I rain on springs that’ve never seen you and never will, geysers that have no relation to you or your salty fatness! Stay down there you bloated blue boor, I’ll just go rain on places you cant imagine exist!”

Fernweh stood up now, her hair flapping in the now intensifying breeze. As the water responded to the clouds, the waves growing more violent and dangerous, more clouds raced at impossible speeds from beyond the horizon to join the growing halo.

Fernweh felt bitter on the inside, disappointed that such powerful forces had taken the time to greet her only to squabble like children. She had come to the island to escape the tumult that proximity to civilization created, and here were the raw elements themselves providing worse company. 

“Quiet!” She shouted, calling on her vast reserves of magical power. Slowly, the waves stopped crashing and the heavens ceased their thundering, and it seemed as though the clouds ‘turned’ to face her, though in ways imperceptible to those not one with nature.

“Sorry dear,” said the clouds, sounding embarrassed and overcast, “my brother and I don’t get along very well. I’m the sky, we’ve met before. Plenty of times, I‘m practically everywhere. I remember seeing you when you were just a little girl, all those seasons ago. Remember? I made a nice rainbow on your first birthday!”

“Well that’s very nice, I‘m a bit flattered you‘d take the time to come and speak to me, your immensenesses. You could say I’ve always been fond of you two; Sky, you know the sunrises you did over Tinkeke Valley last winter? Amazing stuff, worth the three day hike, probably your best work.”

“Aww, you’re too sweet. I’ve never been able to get it as pink as a few thousand years ago, that was definitely my best, but hearing you liked the Tinkeke sunrises almost gives me a warm front.”

“And Ocean, I know I don’t see you as much as The Sky, but you’re amazing too. How many different plants and animals do you have down there? My sister’s have told me about amazing places at the bottom of you, places I’d love to see if I got the chance. Can you tell the seahorses near Sheep‘s Neck Bay I say hi?”

“My enormity is limitless, Fernweh,” replied the waters, “innumerable entities call my saline depths home, and I can grant your request in an instant; the creatures you speak of send their regards. You could join them if you’d like; an excellent Naiad you would make.”

Fernweh sat back down, cross legged, resting her arms behind her and looking up at the swirling clouds and the far away point where the sky and ocean met. She smiled at the primal forces, and began to speak when The Ocean interrupted.

“Enough beating around the seaweed,” exclaimed The Ocean, “this day is very short and we both would like to get to the point. Fernweh, my air-headed brother and I have been talking.”

“And without shouting, it was hard!” Said the Sky.

“Out of all the tiny dots that live beneath me, all the itty bitty land things, I doubt there’s one out there that I‘ve seen as much as you. You‘ve been just about everywhere under me, and each time I see you under a different sky I feel better seeing you grace the landscape.”

“In short,” said The Ocean, “we’re both fans. Sky cant take his clouds off you, he just has to see where you’re going and what you’re doing.”

“And what you did with that Tammy kid, wonderful stuff! Made me dump a tropical storm on some coasts just from watching that!”

“I should have known that was you, brother,” grumbled the ocean, it’s waves crashing solemnly.

“I appreciate your more refined qualities, Fernweh. Even in my gargantuan existence I can appreciate the subtler things. Your smile, your laugh, the dimples of your cheeks. When I see those reflected in me it makes my water levels rise. On the occasions you’ve dipped into me I’ve come close to experiencing what smaller entities call…love.”

Fernweh blushed. Her face felt hot, her stomach was filled with butterflies. She’d taken many lovers, not all of them quite humanoid, but never had something so primal, so elemental as the very oceans and skies professed their love for her. It was intimidating, it was empowering, it was surprising, confusing, terrifying. 

“Whoa,” she gasped, grabbing her elbow with her opposite hand. “I don’t know if I’m capable of responding to that. You two are so…magnificent. I always have loved the world, and there is nothing in it as grand as you brothers. But what can I do to reciprocate your loves? What could I give you, what could I offer to my loves that they couldn’t find elsewhere? You‘re really putting me on the spot here, and I‘ve got nothing!”

“Fernweh, unlike my brother here, who changes from day to day, my memories run deep, as deep as the darkest trench in my abysmal enormity. I know your age, for I have counted the summers since you first entered this world. I know that it was on this day, so many many years ago that Fernweh became herself.”

Fernweh’s eyes widened and her hand went to her mouth. The furry subterranean animal had curled into a ball and hidden between her legs, the unnatural weather playing havoc with its instincts.

She had forgotten! Over so many, many years, changing seasons and continents landscapes, she had forgotten! Today was the anniversary of her birth! The day she was created! Embarrassment flushed her cheeks, and she gazed at the ground for a moment while she recovered from the surprise.

“Hey, don’t look so glum Ferny,” said The Sky, “this means its time to celebrate! We didn’t come to ask of you; we came to give! We’ve brought gifts! Presents to show our affection, you little vagabond vixen you!”

Suddenly the clouds grew darker again; not the heavy black of a thunderstorm but the intense gray of a spring rain. Heavy drizzles of water came from the ring around the island; thick, large droplets that splattered against the sea. 

It was not long before the sun shined through the rain, and a brilliant rainbow of magnificent colors appeared. It arced from horizon to horizon, a glittering tapestry of color and beauty. It was unlike any rainbow Fernweh had ever seen before, its colors were so vibrant, so powerful they appeared solid, like a great radiant arch had just been built to straddle the ocean. The raindrops that formed it glistened like so many diamonds, and the magnificent arc of color was reflected back in the ocean, doubling its grandeur.

“Beautiful,” gasped Fernweh, stroking her hair in awe, her mouth agape. “So beautiful, so colorful. I cant believe you could make a rainbow this wonderful, it's just so, so, so,”

The burrowing animal chirped, and Fernweh broke from her trance to nod at it.

“Yeah, that’s a good word for it. Sky, Thank you so much for this gift, It's amazing!”

“What, you think I’m done already?” Jested The Sky, as bolts of reddish white heat lightning arced between the ring of clouds. They flashed back and forth across the sky, an amazing spectacle of light. Soon the bolts started to make shapes, the jagged arcs forming images between their lines. There was a bird, and between flashes its electrical wings rose and fell, mimicking a bird in flight. 

Fernweh’s heart swelled at the magical display. Her many paramours had shared many things with her, but The Sky’s beautiful show topped them all. It made her feel privileged, special, unique. She was the only one in the world, the only one that the heavens had chosen to show its display. She felt proud and confident, reassured that her quest for a home was on the right track, that she was doing something right with her long life. An entity as ancient, powerful and omniscient as The Sky wanted to give her a gift on her birthday, this unimaginably spectacular display was her reward for her wandering. A surge of motivation shot through her, making her feel warm and strong. She would travel, see all the places she had wanted to, find the best home she could ask for. She would make the sky proud, prove to it that this magical work of art was deserved. That her seeking wouldn’t stop, that she wouldn’t grow complacent or content.

A fish made of lightning swam through the clouds, a herd of deer pranced through the heavens. All these shapes, surrounded by the magnificent rainbow, danced and raced around the island. Prehistoric lizards chased dragons, men ran and waltzed in circles as coruscating flowers bloomed, turning the ring of clouds into a magical light show.

Eventually, the rain died down, the rainbow faded, and the shapes of the lightning show bowed and faded back into the clouds.

“My boisterous sibling’s little display was marvelous, even I would admit,” crashed The Ocean.

“But it is time for my present, Fernweh my love. Something more refined, something more elegant for your womanly tastes.”

With that, the tides rapidly increased their pace, growing faster and faster as they lapped at the shore. They became so quick that small crests of foam formed atop them, fast enough to knock a grown man off his feet. 

The foam clumped together, forming a large white mass at the top of the beach. Of their own accord, the foam moved, congregating at Fernweh’s feet as more and more raced up the beach.

“In my enormity I am alone, Fernweh. Only my brother matches my scale, and I find myself wanting for company far too long for a being of my mass. But when you are with me, when your presence graces my waters, I feel loved from my deepest depths to my highest crests.”

The foam crawled over her like a weightless, bubbly slug, coating Fernweh’s body. They were light and slick, and the mass of foam crinkled and rippled as it washed over her. Fernweh giggled, letting it envelop her, and rubbing the warm bubbles against her nude skin. Opposed to the grand display in the sky, this private, intimate action from The Ocean made her soar with pride. The Ocean had millions upon millions of creatures residing within it, and many, many Naiads that made their home in its depths. And it wanted to impress her. The infinite sea, in all its grandeur, wanted her. 

Fernweh was not vain, but the surge of self importance the two forces of nature’s gifts gave her brought a wide grin to her face, and she ran her hands through the bubbles in glee.

“Your wondrousness is even more magnificent up close,” gurgled the waters as the last of the foam climbed up Fernweh’s wet sides.

“There is not a soul amongst my myriad denizens that would not love you, and I am no exception. Fernweh, will you let me…enter you?”

She groaned, and splayed her legs, wrapping her arms around the biggest mass of foam. Planting a tender kiss on a lump of bubbly white mass, she shut her eyes and threw back her auburn-tressed head.

“I couldn’t think of a better gift,” she whispered, “but what about your brother?”

“Hey, don’t mind me,” said The Sky, “I like to watch. It’s what I’m good at, besides, you know, weather.”

The foam needed no further prompting, and some of its mass began sliding into Fernweh’s already wet sex. It wasn’t firm like a solid creature’s member, but felt filling, satisfying, like a warm shower had entered her vagina. She gasped as the sea foam’s pressure filled her, the bubbling and rippling of the froth stimulating otherwise inaccessible regions of her interior. It lingered there, roiling inside her as more foam applied pressure to her breasts.

“You’re good at this,” gasped Ferwneh, her lower legs twitching each time a bubble popped or formed inside her.

“I take it I’m not your first?”

The foam began to flow in and out of her, stimulating her labia and clitoris. It was like a pressurized stream of water, alive with rippling bubbles and suds, and it made her body shine with wetness as it rolled over her. Bits of sand stuck to her back, and Fernweh’s damp hair clung to her head, shoulders and back.

“Among the sea nymphs that call my saline waters home are many who could dream of no carnal act more pure, no desire they could call greater than copulating with me. You and your kin are the stewards and celebrants of all that me and my brother are, and it is only natural that instead of seeking transient, mortal partners they would want the touch of that which is primal, of the greatest aspect of the natural world there is.

“So in short, he’s whirled quite a few Naiad’s pools over the years,” chimed in the sky, spinning a lonely cumulous miles above their heads.

Fernweh shut her eyes and her face became flush as a wave of pleasure broke inside her, causing her body to tingle and her toes to twitch. She attempted to wrap her legs around her foamy lover, causing her legs to sink into its semi-solid form. One of her flawless hands cupped her breast, the other rising to her face as she bit her ring finger, the pressure inside her building as pulses of foam raced in and out of her sex.

Fernweh’s body felt amazing; it was unlike anything she had felt before, her nethers alive with sensation as the high-pressure foam raced through them. A massive pressure was growing inside her, becoming larger and harder to bear with each pulse of the foam. It was as though the liquids extended beyond her sex and into her nerves, spreading throughout her body and filling her with a tension, pleasure, the need for release. Along with that pleasure flowed magic, pouring into her from the raw, primeval, limitless pools of magic that the seas possessed. Her reserves of magic were being filled further then she could imagine, undiluted power beyond what the nymph had ever thought herself capable of possessing flowing from The Ocean into her.

It had chosen her! Not only as the object of its desire, but as worthy to hold but a fraction of its magical might. She could feel currents miles away, even as the foam pumped her dripping sex faster and faster. Fernweh felt her intuitive connection to her surroundings extending; waves continents away as to manipulate as the ones by her feet. The foam increased its pace, flowing in and out like a rapid. 

Fernweh gave a high pitched whine and bit her fingertip as orgasm rocked her, and the waves surrounding the island simultaneously crashed as one. The great pressure that had been building had broken, and like a great flood her climax wracked her body, causing her face to cinch up in pleasure, her toes to curl, her back to arch and her mouth to open in a great cry of sexual and magical release.

The foam leaked out of her, her sexual fluids mixed with the salty seawater. She remained panting on her beach, arms askew and legs spread, as the waves lapped gently at her feet. The small brown animal crawled by her face and licked her sweaty brow with its tiny, coarse tongue.

“My gift to you Fernweh;” said The Ocean, “a portion of the greatness that is me. May it make your travels easier and you troubles lesser. There is none in the world I would trust more to carry it.”

Her vision still hazy, Fernweh smiled and nodded to the great wave as it shrank back into the ocean, its white crests rippling like a farewell wave.

“Hm, he is good at one thing, ill give him that,” said The Sky in a sardonic tone of wind. “Watching you two gave me a gale, wound up dropping some hail besides my efforts at self control.”

Fernweh groaned and rolled over, grabbing the burrowing animal and relaxing in the glow of the sun and the afterglow of her union.

“Right, right,” said The Sky, “sleep it off gorgeous. Hey, when you pick up and move again, I’ll make sure my winds are always at your back. And ill throw some more pink in the sunsets, just for you Ferny.”

“Mmmhmm,” groaned Fernweh, nuzzling the animal’s coarse fur and enjoying the warmth.

“Yeah, just got to talk to the sun about that, he’s a real traditionalist you know; kept the same schedule for who knows how long.”

A sudden barrage of water hit Fernweh in the face, and she turned to see a tiny storm cloud hovering above her head, deluging her with a column of little raindrops.

“Sorry, just wanted to get your attention. I’m not going anywhere, but I’ve got stuff to do, sunsets to plan, winds to blow, birds that need to fly across some oceans, you know the drill. But before I do, there’s just one thing I wanted to say.”

Fernweh smiled wide and nodded at the bright blue sky and the fluffy white clouds.

“Go ahead, say it.”

“Happy Birthday Fernweh.”