Rineto

The spray from the great cascade tastes of stone and river silt. Rineto breathes it in, a familiar morning ritual before starting work at the lower docks of Waterfall City. Their teacher, a chimper not even half their age, chides them for tying a fisherman's knot too slowly. Rineto just grins, their neat goatee twitching with amusement. They could tie that knot in their sleep, having sailed waters this youngster couldn't fathom. But that life is over. These days, they are a trainee net-mender. The teacher gestures at Rineto's head. 'That cat cap isn't helping you learn faster.' Rineto adjusts the hat, its felt ears flopping. 'It's not for learning,' they reply brightly. 'It's for remembering why.'