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( silence slowly creeps in on the cool breeze as gray clouds slowly drift high above. )
( the tiny drops of rain fall, making a soothing whisper as they play across the fields and grass, no more than ghosts of water, drifting lazily to the ground.)
( soft flutes can be heard far in the distance, only barely heard through the whisper of rain and the soft roll of thunder. Soft, melodious, and mystical. Only barely heard, yet, still soothing. )
( a slight breeze drifts by, making the wet grass shift and move, alive, as tiny glints of light cascade through the sky and dance upon the earth. )
( dreams and spirits quietly rise to look upon the rain with wonder and life, long since lost to the minds of man. Still, placid and overwhelmingly beautiful. Soft voices call back to the flutes as tiny motes of light wisp through the shadows and play across puddles of moonlight. )
( a roll of thunder breaks the whispers, like a mountain shattering, but stills ever moreso as the rain draws it away, soothing and calming, quieting the sound until only a whisper remains once more. The grass, scudding in gental waves, bows down, as if bidding gental passage to an old friend. )
( a break in the clouds offers a breif glimpse of moonlight, the glow illuminating the fields and bringing light once more, however brief to the trees and furs remaining here. Tiny eyes glint back up in wonder before once again drifting off into peaceful dreams of flowers and gental sensations, barely felt, but so so welcome upon them. The rain, once more drawing closed the window as the moon disapears once more. )
( soft notes echo through the glade as the rain continues it's song. Long, soft and calm, the very sounds of the earth can be heard in it's everlong slumber. Tiny ripples dance across pools of night drifting in the fields, while tiny stars dance and jump from the caress of the storm. )
( motes of light drift through the night, glistening faintly and slowly fading once more. Tiny whipsers can be heard as fairies and plant spirits sing out their joys in tiny whistling voices. All the while, rain, calm and soft, sheets down from the heavens and continues it's song. )
( soft thunder, from far off, crawls into the song, no longer a nuisance, but now, a soft reminder of what beauty is. )
( a light aroma drifts in with the winds, bringing the earthy smell of loam and rain. The air becomes thick with long forgotten pleasures and simple joys. Time seems to slow, as images form and years drift away. Trees, grass, even the sodden earth call out, whispering dreams and offering themselves to the s. The glow of gilded lanterns can be seen, just out of sight, filtering through the forest and casting an almost magical glow upon the ground as cloven hooves trod the roads of long forgotten peoples. )
( soft whispers of wind ruffle leaves and send tiny waves drifting across bodies. Trees, furs, and even the rain seem to move as one, dancing to the unknown song. )
( faint chimes can be heard on the wind, as if coming from lost lands, memories, and dreams, softly drawing the cold and wet away, until only the soft whisper of music and the soothing peaceful voice of the storm can be heard. )
( small ripples slide across the placid park, grass bowing and trees swaying ever so slightly. Drifting glimmers of light, shining faintly for but an instant before disapearing completely, only a memory, only a ghost of the night, the storm. )
( faint echos of thunder roll once more across the night, bringing with them a stillness. a silence that almost draws the dark from shadows, as the rain begins to fade. )
( now, mixed with the rain song, earth once more calls out, reaching for the dream slowly fading in the night. Curls of mist rise as the scent of loam and earth filter through the dark. A faint hint of herb and spices now blend with the drawing calm, all too soft and all too comforting to allow much thought. )
( for the first time in what seems like hours, a break in the clouds allows a brief glimpse of the true night sky, inky black with tiny diamonds shining brightly. A hint of color, only long enough to cause a sense of wonder before once more being covered in clouds. )
( the fog rises slowly, heralding the end of the storm, though rain still falls, it seems to bring with it a kind of yerning, a faint sense of loss, almost as if saying goodbye to an old friend. the clouds break, and moonlight drifts down through the mists that surround and play through the night as tiny wisps spin and twist through the air. )
( a quiet decends as the rain slowly draws to an end. The stars glistening in the heavens, the moon sending it's cool light down upon the land, light so pure, so clear, so clean, the mists seem to hold them within themselves, as gifts to the land and those watching. )
( far off thunder drifts upon the wind one last time as the storm passes and all that remain are the faint echos and puddles upon the ground to show it was ever here at all. The mists rise furthure, cloaking the area in a sheen of gray, making the world serine and mystical, old, and anchient beyond measure, yet comfortingly so. )
( the night sky, inky with dreams, casts out upon the sea of stars, drifting forever towards the horizons hidden in mists. Far off, tiny glints of light heraldthe lives of falling stars, while closer, the soft whisper of rain dripping from leaves makes a ghostly reminder of the storm that has left. The air, thick with mists, closes around the world, slowly drifting into obscurity, laying down a blanket of soft welcoming nothingness to enwrap all that live upon the earth. )
( quiet and gray, the mists slowly rise, until only the brightest of stars can be imagined through it's comforting, protective haze. The lights, no more than a ghost of memory, the moon, only a faint smear of white in a gray soft world. And the smell of earth and tea, drifting in the wind.)