Ah! … Musquodoboit Valley
The rain would never end, it would continue until the earth was so saturated that she would need to grown flippers just to stay afloat. But if mutations were legitimate, she’d rather have wings, able to rise above the dangers and fly. Maybe she would go to the desert, where it never rained to begin with so when it would flood to the tops of the tree in the north, it must just be drizzling in the south. All the clouds were too heavy to be pushed away by the weak breeze that hardly caught her coat, they laughed and grew darker at each attempt. The drops that fell were not fat and heavy, but fell consistently and continuous until her fur was sodden and sent a chill to her skin.
She was diligent, even with the world bearing down. Walking through the open spaced of her homelands had made the transition to the pine needle forest easy, and even pleasant. Part of her wanted the warm dry walls of her den, but the larger and louder parts wanted to explore, even if the weather did not cooperate. She plodded on, four paws trotting lightly on the needle carpet, silent even though she expected to slosh instead of step. She traveled until she met the edge of the forest.
She stopped, teetering under the tree cover, unsure if she wanted to enter the rain once again or stay under the safety of the woods. Testing the weather she reached her head out from under the last tree’s bough, eyes squinting in anticipation of pelting drops. Relaxing she found the rain to be light, though still constantly falling. With all the water that surrounded her, the urge to reach the creek she heard and smelled was ever diligent. Exiting the forest she ran for it, playful dodging rain drops as she went. |
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