"Ororo…Oroooro…" whispered the pretend voice in her head, "come to me…Ororo…"
Storm stood in the middle of the heated, hazy savannah…her personal, special place; the grass, golden, caressing her copper knees; a hot boulder, cooled and shaded by the umbra of a tree…Ororo's arms stretched out to the sides, feeling the slight, warm gust of a light breeze blow gently, from behind her. The Sun was out and hot, the powerful light almost portraying sound as it penetrated the atmosphere. Ororo found herself imagining the wind beckoning her into its embrace. A smile of pearls revealed itself; Ororo's eyes shut tightly…the wonder of the Earth…pure ecstasy. Storm starred her palms and gulped a lungful of air, standing on her toes, absolutely filling her mind with the underlying wave of energy that was...the Wind.
Ororo began to spin and dance, her adolescent body gracefully leaping and twirling her arms, spiraling and circling and moving her shoulders to the rhythm of the wave of the Wind against the grass and trees: Ororo's very own ballet.
"Come…to…me…Ororo..." Storm imagined the Wind's voice, a whisper and a roar at the same time. Ororo shifted her dance to involve small run-ups into graceful leaps…gradually jumping further and further. Her white hair swirling as she changed courses in midair, riding the curve of an unseen Force.
Wind…
Storm continued her ballet until she could barely contain her emotion.
A crack of lightning and a roll of thunder in on the navy and grey horizon signaled her. She simply tore off…sprinting at full speed; her long, elegant, bronze legs striding long and skillfully. Her head was thrown back and she twined the end of her long sarong into her fingers, the woven navy and white material billowing to the side. The golden grass for miles on either side was forcefully blasted against by the unseen force. One ballet leap…two…three…
Every time she leaped, she went faster, and further…and it took no toll on her. She bounded one last time and was carried up, slowly and swiftly. She laughed and leaned forward barrel-rolling left and right, her smile nonstop.
She rose higher and higher…a racing cheetah below was no bigger than the beads on her necklaces. Ororo changed course swiftly, rising up very high into the sky, her body spinning around and around, the hair whipping her face causing childlike laughter.
She streamlined her body and pushed herself to the limit, her hair blown straight in back of her, the roar of the atmosphere right behind. Ororo then, for the fun of it…stopped. She curved her descent until it was perfectly vertical. She enjoyed every second of the zero gravity. At cloud level she began to pull up, curving sharply back to level… about five meters from the ground, stripping bushes simply by the slipstream. Storm held her arms out like a bird and spiraled out of the way of an oncoming tree, whizzing by it in an elf-like laughter. The air began to taste of salt…
Before she knew it, there was nothing but pure dark blue, water…
Her playful manner brought her close to the water, going by faster than a beltsander. The immediate trail behind her was leaping walls of water, twenty feet high…
Ororo Monroe discovered the power of Wind.