Name: Atwater
Gender: Male
What do they do when the weather is horrible?
For Atwater, it's not the rain falling, clashing against the ground or the thick, stormy sky sending out lightning bolts of electricity that's horrible. It's the insolent, detestable sunshine.
When it pulsates in the sky, sending beams of warmth down his fur, he wants to vomit.
As the children run out to play, he stays in his house, shielding himself from the horrid thing with the use of curtains.
When the rain comes out is when he is truly happy. Children stay inside their homes, looking at the sun being blocked by clouds, staring up with such longing, while he is outside, reveling in the sweet pitter patter as the small beads hit the floor.
His relief and joy is short lived; when the clouds part and the sun reveals itself once more to the Earth, he is no longer gleeful. He glides back to his house, not leaving unless the rain is falling peacefully and the sun is non-existent.
So, when the sun is out, which is by far the most horrid weather of all, he blocks it out, not daring to let a single ray of heat have the pleasure to touch his fur.
Extra:
The house was bustling with noise, but Atwater was paying no attention to the talking of his family members. He could see, by looking up, that something was wrong.
The sky was broken.
Instead of the bright blue sky with the occasional dapple of clouds and the sun shining glaringly in the sky, the clouds had gone dark, similar to the color of his own pelt.
“Mother,” he’d recalled saying to the dark she-kalon next to him, “Why is the sky gray?”
His mother leaned over and cast a glance at the sky. “Oh, no,” she said in dismay. “Looks like we’re going to get some rain.”
Atwater didn’t know what rain was at the time; but the sudden change in scene, his mother’s muddled attitude toward it, and the fact the sun was no longer as bold and mighty as it usually was, made Atwater smile.
“Can I go out in the rain, mother? Will the clouds hurt me?”
His mother gave an amused snort. “The clouds aren’t the rain, honey. The rain is when the water from the clouds falls down from the sky.”
At this, she turned and left, muttering something hurriedly about forgetting the chicken in the oven.
Water? In the sky?
He felt his fascination grow. Quickly, he turned and rushed out the door, leaving it rocking unsteadily in the rushing wind.
He looked up, ready for the water to spill from the clouds in one giant wave.
But nothing happened.
And nothing did for a long time. Feeling cheated, he retreated back to his front door, when something peculiar hit his back.
A bead of water.
Interested, and mouth wide with glee, he stared up at the clouds.
Another drop hit his nose.
And another, and another, until the sky was swarming with small drops.
Hearing the water hit the floor was soothing. Before he knew it, he was drenched, but with no cares. He romped gleefully through the water that coated the streets; he didn’t stop until he felt no more drops hit his pelt.
Looking up sorrowfully, he saw the clouds turn white again, loosing their once marvelous gray color.
In that moment, Atwater felt true sadness. He trudged back inside, feeling his heart sink.
“When will the rain be back, mother?”
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