grey clouds assembled overhead, as if sour-faced townspeople come in mourning. ich'aak eyed their somber features, watching as they drifted rudderless and stormy across the endless features of an empirical stone-clad sky. the crack of thunder growled, as if a whip lashed after their heels -- and somewhere in the distance a pylon of miserable grey floated downwards, the hallmark of a furious opening of rain leagues away.

ich'aak moved quickly, but could not outrun the storm. it descended rapidly, like some irate cat -- a cloak of water-splattered shadows come to devour him.

 in his urgency to find shelter he slipped on the slick footing of a wet boulder, cracked his head on the way down, and remained still as the furious thunderstorm raged around him.