The sky had been blue, but now it is turning grey. The clouds had been beautifully soft and white, but now they were heavy and dark and threatening. He had been sitting outside for a long time now, just watching. His mother stands behind him, or at least a doe who he believes to be his mother, and she nudges his shoulder with her nose as rain begins to pour down in thick sheets. He turns, only barely curious.
"My little darling, it's time we went inside," his mother said softly, "I should have known. Your moods always warn of a coming storm."
