Crimson Arrows

Victoria could read the smells on the breeze like a book. She heard the vibrations in the ground speak to her like voices. Air surrounded her always, whispering smells, tastes, and warnings. Air was friendly, sometimes pushy; it could strip the land of everything given the right twist. Water teased her with its refreshing touch, but if she wasn’t careful, it pulled her in and pushed her down.
Fire was none of those. It surged through her brain with a lusting appetite and charred her spirit. Left unchecked, fire blackened beauty.
Lightning was completely different. It growled in the background like a ravenous lion, struck instantly, and vanished, leaving only the electric scent of ionized air and scorched earth. Unlike the other elements of nature, lightning was born in the infinitely small space where the energy sparked to consumable rage.
She knew it was coming. The Air sizzled. The ground vibrated as black clouds crowded into formation, as if the sun suddenly desired to hide and pulled the blankets over its head. She looked up and knew something was different.
Foley looked up at the sky. Dark clouds boiled toward them, churning as if fueled by an angry volcano. “Is this you? Are you doing this?”
“No,” Victoria said.
“Bad time for a storm,” he said as rain drops began to fall.
Victoria shook her head. “This is no storm.”