His desperate sprint through the rain yielded no results for a while. He was still soaking wet, the drops drilling into his head and eyes and making him miserable. He liked playing in the water, and nice little drizzles felt nice, but this downpour was too much for the young prince. Days like this made him feel grateful for the buildings in the Kingdom, but that was too far away for him to make before the storm was probably over.
Skoll was considering just rushing home anyway, hoping that the rain didn’t wash away all traces of his existence, when he saw a vague form through the sheets of water and heard a questioning voice. Squinting, he ran harder until he could make out the other’s doggish shape.
Wordless, the boy continued to plow toward the stranger. He slowed down at the last second, but the mud made him slip, and he knocked into her. Rather than apologize and leap away, he buried his face in her sodden coat for the sake of leaving at least part of him dry.
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