On one rainy day in a dense jungle, Tenaro sat on a thick, low branch of a massive tree, a few raindrops slipping through the canopy to pat his skin, sliding down his face and arms.

  His back rested against the thick trunk, his left hand scratching behind his head, his fingers moving through the black and slightly brown curls of his hair. He glanced upward, only small patches of the gray sky broke through the dense greenery above.

  *When will this damn rain stop?* He wondered, jaw tightening. *I am so hungry.*

  He looked down to his stomach as it growled loud enough to vibrate the entire branch.

  *It took forever to get up this mountain, and I can't even look for food.*

  He sighed and looked up again, his eyelids heavy from exhaustion and lack of food, almost covering his green eyes.

  He could hear the howls of howler monkeys and calls of toucans echoing in the distance.

  Beside him, lay his twin swords, Twin Flares. The wet hilts of the swords were wrapped in worn, rough bandages. A braided makeshift rope made from thin, flexible but surprisingly tough layers of twigs were tied around the hilts to hold them together. A makeshift carry strap.

  Tenaro shifted, tugging at his sleeveless top and his light harem pants, as his damp clothes tried clinging to his skin.

  He swung his legs over the edge of the branch, his black boots dangling over the edge. The ground was a blur of rain and mist, hiding the ground.

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  He turned his head and grabbed his swords, water dripping from the wet steel. He untied the twig-braided rope and put it in his mouth, his tongue twisting around from the bitter taste of the rope, and flipped his left blade into a reversed grip. He slammed the blade into the wood, the bark shuddering from the impact, and he hopped off the edge, feet dangling. The other sword followed, the bark spitting splinters at Tenaro's face as the blades stabbed into the wood.

  He began a slow, rhythmic climb down, stabbing and withdrawing each blade in turn, with short, sharp barks of effort that mixed with the rain's rhythm.

  When the ground finally came into view, his right sword failed to sink into the wet bark, slipping off the surface, the left blade already out for the next motion. Tenaro's eyes widened.

  *Damn it.*

  Air whipped past his ears as he fell.

  His pulse spiked, his heart racing as he tried to stab one sword back into the trunk, but he was falling too fast.

  He twisted midair and angled himself head-down to roll with the landing, his eyes squinting from the wind.

  When he hit the ground, mud exploded under him. He rolled through the slurry and jumped to his feet, pain shooting up his head.

  He looked down at his loose-fitting pants that sucked up mud like a sponge, the water-logged slurry dragging the fabric down.

  Tenaro sagged his shoulders.

  "Great."

  He gathered both his swords in one hand, pulled the rope from his mouth, wrapped it around the hilts and tied them around his waist.

  Mud clung to his fingers as he tried to wipe them off his pants.

  He felt the rain hit him harder now that he wasn't on the branch anymore, the droplets sliding down his neck and soaking his top.

  He turned towards the hollow in the tree, a dark space he spotted earlier. It honestly seems like the perfect time to take shelter in it now.

  The hollow swallowed him in the darkness as he crawled inside. There was just enough room to sit.

  He squinted his eyes as he adjusted to the dark, mud squishingunder his boots. A dark, shapeless turd sat menacingly on other end of the hollow, though his nose wasn't irritated. Yet.

  *Good enough.*

  Tenaro sank to the muddy floor, his back pressing against the wood. He untied the rope from his waist and laid his swords across his lap, closing his eyes.

  A long breath escaped from his lips, his stomach loudly complaining.

  *Stupid rain.*