Faro Faros was only 13 years old, full of youthful curiosity and a streak of mischief that often landed him in awkward situations. Living in Thundarr Forest at the time, under the loose guardianship of his enigmatic and vivacious Aunty Rita, he was discovering the world—and himself—in equal measure.
Rita Faros, then in her early 30s, was as bold and unapologetic as ever. Her confidence radiated from her like a flame, and her presence commanded attention wherever she went. To Faro, she was a mix of fascination and frustration: someone who treated him like an equal in their daring escapades but still insisted on reminding him of his age when it suited her.
One humid afternoon, after a long trek through the dense jungle, Rita decided to take a shower under the outdoor rainwater system she had rigged up near their cabin. It was a crude yet effective setup, with a wooden barrel suspended high above, dripping fresh, cool water down onto a small, enclosed area.
Faro, curious as ever, had been playing nearby, practicing with a slingshot he’d fashioned out of tree bark and vine. He heard the water running and, driven more by youthful curiosity than any ill intent, crept toward the sound. Peering through a small gap in the wooden planks surrounding the shower, he caught a glimpse of Rita.
Her hair, dark and wavy, was slicked back as she let the cool water cascade over her. She was humming softly—a rare moment of peace for the usually boisterous woman. Faro’s cheeks burned as he realized what he was doing, but his teenage mind struggled to look away. This was Rita—his fearless, larger-than-life aunt—and yet, in this moment, she seemed so human, so different from the woman who leapt into danger without a second thought.
Suddenly, as if sensing his presence, Rita’s humming stopped. She turned slightly, her sharp blue eyes narrowing. “Faro Faros,” she called, her voice carrying a warning edge. “You better not be where I think you are.”
Faro froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He considered running but knew she’d catch him. Slowly, he stepped out from his hiding spot, his head hung low.
Rita grabbed a towel, wrapped it around herself, and stepped out of the shower. She placed her hands on her hips and looked down at the sheepish boy. “Care to explain yourself?”
“I… I didn’t mean to—” he stammered, his face redder than the setting sun. “I was just… curious.”
Rita raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching in amusement despite her stern demeanor. “Curious, huh? Well, let me teach you something about boundaries, kid.”
Before he could react, she grabbed a nearby bucket of cold water and dumped it over his head. Faro yelped, stumbling back as the icy water drenched him from head to toe.
“Maybe that’ll cool off your curiosity,” Rita said with a smirk, ruffling his wet hair as she walked back toward the cabin. “Now go dry off and think about how to act like a gentleman.”
Faro stood there, dripping and mortified, but also strangely relieved. Rita hadn’t yelled or scolded him too harshly. Instead, she’d turned the moment into a lesson—one he wouldn’t forget.
From that day on, Faro learned to respect Rita’s boundaries, and their bond grew stronger. While he’d always carry a certain awe for his daring, bold aunt, he also learned that she wasn’t just a figure of fascination. She was family, and that meant trust and respect above all else.
