A Passing Storm

A change in the air stirred a nervous spirit from her resting place, drawing her incorporeal form into a more physical expression. Slowly padding from what remained of a long forgotten barn that rested within a sea of yellow grasses, Tristis hunkered low when a passing gust swept through her fur. The earthly tans and browns that colored her small form danced in the wind, which came and went in waves that stirred what was left of the autumn leaves from the old trees planted around the abandoned field. Her boundary. Her home.

With a slight shiver, Tristis crawled back into the shelter of the dilapidated shed, half of which had already collapsed into splintered and decayed logs and planks of wood. In the cracks of the roofing and walls, the wind whistled quietly, filling the air with ominous white noise that only put Tristis on further edge. What did this mean? Why was the air behaving in such an erratic pattern? In her short life as an Esk, she had never seen such a phenomenon, and now she couldn’t help but feel fearful of the unknown. Was it dangerous? What was the cause?

Squinting her eyes at the cacophony of fearful thoughts that drowned out everything else, Tristis began to shiver, half crouched as she was amongst the dirt floor of the shed, which now creaked as the wind pressed on from the outside. She didn’t understand, and she didn’t know what to do, or where to go. Could this even harm her? Casting a nervous glance with her black eyes to the broken door of the shed to the outside, Tristis found her gaze falling upon a small field mouse that had leapt down from one of the old shed shelves to the dirt below, only to hop and skitter about into the open windy air. There, it paused, stood up on its back legs, and sniffed at the air curiously.

Having been so frightened and worried, Tristis hadn’t even noticed the very air that danced outside had a new scent and property to it. A smell and presence that, for the briefest moment, had a hint of familiarity to it that hesitated her fearful thoughts.

If the mouse was not afraid, perhaps this was...normal? Natural?

Still shaken, the Esk slowly crept out after the mouse, once more peering out into the golden sea of grasses that danced and swayed in the same way the waves of a pond would. Above, the sun that had been shining down upon the abandoned field began losing its brightness as clouds began to creep forward and dim the ambient warmth and light. Yet, the mouse, which Tristis now watched, seemed unphased, if not interested in what was happening. The way it skipped about, skittering around and behind the shed without a care in the world was somewhat comforting. If even the smallest of creatures feared not this phenomenon, then perhaps she too would be fine, if not confused.

Same as before, Tristis crept forth from the shelter into the patch of dirt that still surrounded the shed, only to suddenly jump at the sound of a distant rumble, low and heavy. As quick as a fox, Tristis darted forward, diving beneath the old tree that swayed in the wind, her eyes wide and searching her surroundings. Was it a monster? Another Esk?

Circling the tree nervously, Tristis had to pause and shake the tension from her body to try and keep calm. Her long trailing tail swayed about as her eyes watched the waves of gold dancing with the gusts of wind. Yes, wind, air, harmless, from what she could gather. But the clouds above...

Tristis cast her eyes upwards to the dark storm clouds above that had begun to rumble once more, which caught the Esk by surprise. Never had clouds made noise before! How was this possible? Were there creatures that lived within them? Briefly, Tristis casted her glance back to the shed, but having been out here for a few moments now with nothing happening that would be considered dangerous, Tristis shifted her gaze to the old tree’s branches above. Only a moment of thought followed before she leapt up into the branches, her long tail trailing behind her with ribbons of long earth-colored fur.

Catching her balance upon the branches, Tristis cast her gaze outwards over the golden grasslands and took in the sight in quiet silence. The plains before her felt endless, covering rolling hills in endless gold. Bright, and warm, compared to the dark grays and blues that had taken over the sky now, creating a stark contrast that Tristis had never seen before. It was beautiful, mesmerizing, even. Her curious eyes gazed for quite some time, wide and awe-struck, only for a flinch to shake her form as something tapped the top of her head.

Almost losing her balance upon the branches, Tristis shook her head and peered upwards, only to notice another small tap on her body, followed by another, and another. Before she could even respond, a sprinkle of rain began dripping down upon the field and the Esk who called it home. Shocked at first, Tristis quickly realized that her fur was becoming soaked in water. Something that, for the briefest moment, felt nostalgic, familiar.

Rain, Tristis could barely recall her memories of her traumatic past, but rain was something that carried a deep familiarity that seeped into her the same way it did her fur. As the droplets continued to fall around her, Tristis slowly moved to sit down upon the branch, letting the water fall upon her as she sat in muted silence, the gentle plips of each drop falling upon the ground created a chorus of calming noise that Tristis surprisingly found comfort in. It wasn’t long until the ground had gathered water, which cast reflections of the clouds above. Tristis took note of this after several moments of solace, and gently leapt from her branch to the ground below to peer down at the puddles of water that had gathered. Gently setting her paws within them, she watched the rain cast ripples upon their surfaces, and in a gesture that caught even her off guard, she leapt to another puddle, the cloud reflections warping with each shift upon their surface. While Tristis could never reach the clouds, thi felt close enough. 

It was even a little fun.

Bounding through the clearing in the field, the Esk began chasing the cloudy storm’s reflections, almost dancing within the chorus of rain that soaked the earth below with each bound and leap. Occasionally, she would slip, only to roll back to her feet to continue an endless dance that continued long into the storm’s life, only for it to come to steady stop when the rain began slowing, until eventually it ceased, leaving the solitary Esk sitting alone in her abandoned field once more.