He bobbed his head in agreement. “I am a scout. It is in my nature to be careful. But come, I cannot kiss you with mud on my lips. Walk with me to the water while I wash this mud from my mouth.”
“Yes. All right.”
Taking a few necessary paces toward the water, he bent down to wash off his lips. However, in doing so, he somehow splashed water on her.
“Oh! That’s cold. Don’t do that again, please.”
“Do not do what again? You mean this?” He splashed her once more.
“Oh, Swift Hawk, stop that this instant.” She turned away from him, only to feel another splash at her backside.
Spinning back toward him, she said, “Now that will be enough of that. Cease this!” Though she frowned at him and flashed him a warning glance, she had also placed her hand in the water just so, had cupped it and without awaiting his approval, sent a spray of water his way.
She heard his laugh, followed immediately by another splash at her.
“What is this?” She glared at him, but his look at her was innocent. “You realize, of course, that if you keep this up, I will retaliate even more.”
He sprinkled her with yet more water. “I do not know what this word ‘retaliate’ means.”
“It means this,” she instructed, showering him with so much river water the mud began to run off him.
If he were concerned about it, he didn’t show it. Instead, his laugh was full-hearted and rich, as though he were as carefree as the wind. In truth, his next action surprised her, for he executed a shallow dive into the water, surfacing quickly. From this new position, he sent her another spray of water, and it was done so swiftly, she was wet from head to foot before she had realized what had happened.
“Ah! I don’t believe this,” she said. “You know this means war.”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he teased her with another light sprinkling.
“Very well. If we’re going to make a battle out of this, there must at least be rules.” She eased herself into the water gradually.
“Rules?” he asked. “There are no rules.”
“Yes, there are,” she insisted. “Because you are bigger and stronger than I am, there have to be rules. Like…” She thought a moment. “Like, you should have one hand tied behind your back. That would make a skirmish between us fairer.”
She stopped long enough to note his response. A mistake.
She was instantly showered.
“Oh.” She sputtered. “That was definitely not fair.”
He grinned. “That is because in a water fight, there are no rules, except this.” And he did it again.
“Swift Hawk!”
“But,” he said in a conciliatory sort of voice, “if you believe I should fight with one arm behind me, I will do it, although I will still win.”
“Humph! We shall see.” She dove into the water. Oh, it was cold, but not as cold as being out of the water, in the wind, and being splashed. As soon as she surfaced, she said, “Now, if we are to fight, what are the stakes to be?”
“Stakes?”
“Yes. If I win, what do I get? And if you win, what do you get?”
“How about…to the victor should go the right to ask a small service of the other.”
“A small service? For instance?”
“If I win, perhaps you could wash my pony for me, and maybe you could wash…me too.”
“Oh.” She smiled. “That is a very suggestive statement.”
