The river ran deep and fast against the steady rocks. Yeshua squatted on the edge of its ridge, his feet planted firmly on the rock. He didn't move and only stared at the rushing white water, moving like it was on fire. Instead it only threw moisture at his young face.

He couldn't see his reflection. 

The boy stood up, wiping off any wet patches off his trousers. He dipped down and yanked the blazer which he now wore. It was emblazoned with the logo of the facility. While not appearing too flashy, it emitted a very professional but causal air. 

It stunk of fish. 

He fell over a pile of dead salmon, the greasy and decomposing flesh wiping down his ankles. He kicked one of the unluckier corpses back into the water. His eyes fell down to the awful stain, unaware of the equally disgusting smell. He hadn't been afraid of much. The salmon chunks stuck to his cuffs, even when he shook his leg violently and without control. He knew what to do. 

While he was ankle deep in the rapids, he saw a familiar silhouette in the distance. Its brown outline and wet nose gave away its identity. He couldn't miss what a beautiful creature it was. A spooky shadow cast over the rather small creature until it was right on top of it; a fluffy case of snow-white and charcoal-black feathers burnt through the trees, its claws wrapping deep into the bear cub's flesh. The bear squealed for its parent, still in the burrow. By the time the thunderous steps of the mother had broken the ground and shattered the leaves of the trees, the Eagle had laboriously flew to two hundred feet in the air. Its massive wings flapped with each steady beat, a weightlifter with his prize. The bear had given up screaming and now took in the gorgeous view. 

The corpse smashed against the ground, bouncing slightly before rolling into the river. Rushing air followed. It eyes span out of its sockets and organs shot out of its mouth.  

The Eagle followed downstream the bloody house of broken bones. The mother had not moved from its removed perch at the edge of the forest. It took five minutes for it to escape back into the darkness. A crackle filled the air. Lightning erupted from Yeshua's mouth, scorching the grass in front of him and evaporating the water. Nobody heard him laughing. 

Stepping out of the cold water, he came to the conclusion that his trousers should be soaked rather than stinking. He had learnt this from the faces of the officers. They had not been impressed before, which Yeshua hoped wouldn't happen. He didn't want anyone to be sad, because that made him sad. This is what Abba told him and he believed him. Unquestioning loyalty was akin to worship, but his God was benign. His God saved him and would save him. If only he was nicer. 

Yeshua didn't wipe the smile off his face as he finally arrived to the meeting, an extremely long and meandering trail of moisture behind him. He had an Eagle feather still placed on his shoulder. No notice had been taken of it. He saluted and didn't apologise.