Another talk to the hand

“T—“ I shouted—and abruptly stopped moving in midair as he curled his fingers.

I looked around and saw that the loose water had curled around my tiger form, shaping itself into a massive fist.

“Talk to the hand, son, because the face ain’t listening,” My dad said, pulling himself to his feet. He lifted his other hand and more water congealed into huge reflection of it. Without hesitating, he swung it at me, intent on smacking me away.

I faced it and snorted before leaning forward and swimming through the water fist holding me. The surface tension my father’s will and water’s incompressibility made like steel faltered when I set my mind against it, parting under the power of Dust. I didn’t even feel the slap of his second hand as I swam through the suspended water and rushed for my father, shaping the water around me with only a little help from Xihai. In moments, I was swimming through a suspended stream, running as easily inside it as I did on the ground.