[ Lemme know if you want me to make the text larger for you, @[Arathea]! ^^ ]

Storms were fascinating, because they were so incredibly local. Like, right-over-your-head local. Mauja was drenched, soaked to the bone, white fur a rather unbecoming shade of darkened gray, and his mane was a ropy mess plastered his neck and face. With the sunset, the temperature would drop, and he was pretty sure he'd be pretty cold then. After all, he still had only his thin summer fur, and it had nothing to offer against his kind of weather. It was the kind of fur that said "go stand under a tree, you blasted idiot". But of course, he was a blasted idiot for a reason, and that was because he was too stupid to do exactly what he ought to—take cover.

No, instead he was high-tailing across the meadow, absolutely pelted with rain falling like a flood from the sky, knees raised high with each fleet-footed step of his trot. His ears were slick against his neck, gaze flung skyward every so often. Straight above him it was pitch black, but a little ways ahead, he saw stars shine from the dark navy canvas of the sky, so surely, if he was just faster than the storm.. or was it traveling the other way? Being straight under it, he couldn't tell, because one moment the wind pushed him forward and made his wet forelock flutter uncomfortably against his eyes, and then in the next it was punching him in the face as if wondering why he thought he could get away from it.

All he knew was that he was already sopping wet, and because of that, he could just as well keep going straight ahead. It couldn't get much worse, not really, unless one of the many bolts of lightning decided to strike him. Besides, he wasn't terribly annoyed, more like the way you're—fondly—irritated with an unruly sibling.

And it even was his lucky day. Either he was faster than the clouds, or they were going the other way, or dissipating as the air grew colder, but whatever the case, the rain lessened to a sheet of drizzle, until finally it was nothing but a heavy moisture in the air, making his breath pool in white clouds around his dark muzzle. Drenched, but oddly light-hearted despite his situation (or maybe because the more tangible nuisance of being incredibly wet made him not think about it), Mauja laughed to himself—surprised at how easily it came out of his throat, and too caught up in examining his puzzling state of mind to notice how close he'd danced to an old friend of his.

night-fate-stock -- dreamofsandman -- deirdre-T -- deviantart.com // i-mi.deviantart.com

[ Arathea's on the right, eh? x3 ]

It was a long, long time since he'd felt so free, so unburdened, like the chains tethering his black heart to the deepest pits of the earth had broken and snapped; he threw his head into the sky, a few ropy strands of long mane tearing free from his neck to snap into the air, and his front feet lifted off for the briefest of moments before coming down again. There was just something.. something, in the cold, wet rain that had pelted him, in the boom of thunder and the bright, arcing snap of lightning, and the scent of moist earth—something in all of that, that made him feel alive. Bucking, he hopped a few steps forward, his sane, not-wet owls hiding under some tree and regarding him in the way you might regard your deranged uncle.

But just as the snap of thunder rocked through his very bones, the soft howl of a wolf pierced him to his very core, and his weird, self-absorbed dance ended in a most ungracious crow-hop straight to the right. If he'd been a cat or a wolf, all his fur would've been on end, but as it was, he was a horse, so instead he ended up with his legs splayed, head high, nostrils wide and ears flickering as if they were well on their way to wrench themselves free and fall off his head.

Because, traditionally, Mauja was not at all fond of wolves. Oh, he liked them at a distance all right, and they were rather nice to use as metaphors, and there was some kind of savage beauty to them.. but ever since that huge wolf-horse had stood on him in the forest, his pack of snarling friends all around, Mauja had liked them best at just that: a distance.

But not this one. It took him just a second or two to locate her, his nose full of rain and electricity and wet earth, so it was his eyes that found her. Unlike him, who looked like he'd gone for a swim, she was dry, the soft beiges and tan of her coat sort of grayed out in the starlight. And his posture, which had been that of a very startled horse trying to locate danger, was erased instantly—mainly because he was bouncing forward, towards her. "Arathea!"

[ @[Arathea]. ]

night-fate-stock -- dreamofsandman -- deirdre-T -- deviantart.com // i-mi.deviantart.com