The Feral Pool God Of Floaty Rub Rub

Giggles turned to dark, cracky-voiced chuckles as I read my new book title. I was getting over a terrible virus which had hit me hard in my ass.. Asthma, I mean. So my voice had been nonexistent for days and when I tried to speak, it was a fragile whisper. Like I was haunting my own home. Ooooo…

Floaty rub rub? What? What was I thinking? I rubbed my forehead. But wait- I found myself oddly intrigued. And playfully delighted. I’ve floated in a pool before, beneath the forest’s view. Was! Was currently floating in my tiny pool in my tiny forest. What if I had experienced some majestic touches while relaxing and reclining within water’s embrace?

“Cuz oooo! Yes! Please!” I laughed, and coughed. And giggled, coughing more. Maybe it was best not to talk? Or laugh maniacally to myself, where the crows might judge me.

The Pool… God… of floaty… hmm.

Rub rub? Ummm…

Like from Wolfie Paw Paw? Noooo.

Or maybe yes?

The title- hmm. I needed something more. A descriptor for him. Maybe beginning with an F? That way I could grt some alliteration going. Feral! Yes! The Feral Pool God of Floaty Rub Rub! 

“That’s it!” I kicked my feet, totally splashing myself. smiling so huge my face hurt.

He would be so cool. 

If I just knew what he looked like. I tilted back, leaning my green straw hat over my eyes to block the intense brightness of a summer afternoon. I craved the heat, feeling it soak deep into my skin, but my eyes were sensitive to anything brighter than the typical Gloom of the Pacific Northwest. Some perky, floofy clouds lazed by ever so slow and serene like. I could just see him, barely, coming into focus in my imagination.

Hmm, maybe long merman type hair, with glittering scales scattered randomly along his arms, torso and muscular legs. Sort of bluish to purple hued scales. Yes. He would be so pretty. 

And feral.

Oooo. I hummed a happy little tune of satisfaction, hoping it would be less likely to end in coughing and then an asthma attack.

What would I call him? Jareth! Wait- no. That was only for the rightful Goblin King. As was fitting.

Hmm, need a name for the dude. Something whimsical maybe? I considered as I floated. Playful… “Fabian? Fester?” I leaned back again to gaze up at the clouds as I floated. A deep voice growled, amused.

“Faeryn.”

“Whoa! What the feck!”

“Not feck. This is the TangleWilde.” He answered amusement hidden in his tone, the lift of his brow.

“Who- who are you?”

“I am the keeper of these waters.”

“My pool?”

“Does your pool contain water?”

“Yes, but so do I.”

“Yet I am not the self-proclaimed God of Lovely Mortals.”

“So you’re a pool god?”

“I prefer ‘feral’ pool god, thank you very much.”

I am keeper of the waters. All waters within this land. The TangleWilde. And thus you, fair human, are in my terrain. 

“But I was just walking in my own backyard! Floating! Floating in my own tiny pool!”

“You stepped through a specific sets of trees. Through the boulders that lie st the edge of my realm. Now you are mine. Surely this is not a surprise.”

“Uh hey there fella, feral, forest guy, its all rather a terribly horrid surprise. Despite your mysterious grace and enchantments.” I gestured at his torso, and the myriad of splendid muscles glimmering with purpley-blue shimmer on display there. Had I simply made him up? How could I have gotten. him so exact?

Maybe I had fallen, hit my head, and this was all a delusion.

“You find me enchanting?”

“Aren’t I supposed to?” Because I totally did.

“Usually mortals run.”

“Oh? Do they now?” I found that so very hard to believe.