Broken Boulder ne t’enfermes pas dans ta chambre

pour tu @Zamael

she is some distance from the densite again when the world around her falls into stillness.  how interesting!  the wind stopped blowing through the trees, and even the noise of the birds and crickets started to die down.

plop.  plop-plip-plink!  milk begins to fall from the sky, only it is tasteless and much thinner.  

it is wet.  she has decided rather suddenly that she does not like being wet, and that the rain should stop this instant because, hello, she does not like being wet.

the rain, of course, does not stop.  perhaps if she had learned like most pups did that making noise equals attention she would have collapsed onto her rear and started to squall, but solomon had only been taught that making noise makes mother upset, and she did not like to do that.

so instead she turned around and started to head back.  she was used to walking across broken boulder's rocks dry but with all of this meddlesome rain it was a different story.  she slips and tumbles and lacking the usual amount of baby-fat that children her age has she scrapes the side of her face and her front right leg against the rocks.

it is bleeding, but she does not notice, because it hurts!  and now she does begin to squall.