It’s stormy today.
Not enough to break anchors or uproot trees — just stronger than you’d like for swimming. Still, you can walk barefoot on the soft sand, or step into the cool water. The waves froth in the shallows, whipping up airy foam that the wind tosses onto passersby.

He watched her, never taking his eyes off, as she walked slowly along the beach. Her cover-up fluttered in the wind, baring her body to the sun and breeze. She looked toward the sea, her face glowing with bliss and joy…

He’s known her for a very long time.
Knows all her secrets and all her desires. He knows what she’s been through, what she’s endured. Many times, he’s pulled her away from danger. And each time he fulfilled her request, he understood he might provoke frustration — even anger. But that’s how the world works: only the outcome matters, and the method doesn’t always match the expectations.

Sometimes it seems to him that she wants to hurt herself, or take a dangerous path. But what can he do — it’s her choice.
As long as her soul shines, and its signal is clear on the radar, he can simply observe.
But once that light begins to fade, it’s time to act.
He must figure out: who or what might harm her, how strong the danger is, what the consequences could be, how to prevent it — and whether help from the Higher ones is needed.
Sometimes, it takes a great deal of effort to draw together the threads of hundreds of events into a single moment.

He knows all of this.
And he is trained for it. His reactions are nearly instantaneous.

He’s always near.
She knows it — and sometimes, she even sees him, when he decides it’s necessary.
Sometimes, he needs to offer a shoulder. Or light the path. Or breathe warmth into her day. Or show her a falling star.

And then, he becomes just a whisper of memory, brushing her palm…
with a single white, weightless feather.