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My prince sits cowering, hands over his pointed ears, knees drawn up to his chest. All around him raindrops beat the earth like a drum, sending dirt pluming skyward. The motes of dust threaten to choke my faerie, and he shivers beneath a mushroom cap, teeth clenched as explosions in the sky meet with streaks of lightning. Minutes p but to the prince time slows to a near standstill. The booms grow distant as rain falls with less ferocity. My faerie gathers courage and opens his eyes, jaw aching as he becomes aware of how taut he'd held is muscles. Looking up, he sees the horizon growing lighter, the heavy purple receding, and he thinks, surely I have ped the night here. My prince wrinkles his nose in distaste as he looks around at the aftermath of mud and floating debris. The water rises higher and pushes against his thighs as the packed ground loses the battle to absorb much needed moisture. Frantic now and muttering a string of high pitched curses, my princes casts around for anything to hold on to. His tiny hands brush against a birch leaf and he climbs into its center, his weight forcing the edges of the leaf to stretch upwards, sealing off the outside world. Taking off his sodden tunic, my prince reclines in his floating haven, hands supporting his tired head. The rocking motion makes my little faerie quite sleepy and he drifts for a time, unaware of his destination. Slowly the water recedes, leaving my prince afloat on his vessel, beneath a canopy of forest. Droplets of water make their way along the veins of overhead leaves, pooling together until their weight becomes too great to bear. The complete silence is broken only by the sounds of dripping vegetation and tiny snores. One such droplet sails through the air, catching my sleeping prince square in the face, shocking him from his dreaming. My faerie sits up, alarm setting his nerves afire as he fails to realize where he is in this world of green. Standing now, my faerie loses his footing, tumbling into the clear pool of rainwater. Fully awake, he opens his eyes, taking in the shimmering greens and blues. His eyes begin to sting, but he keeps them open, curiosity outweighing discomfort. His gaze falls upon a tiny piece if light. Metal perhaps. Kicking towards it, he manages to grab it before the lack of air forces him to the surface. He clambers onto dry ground, examining his trophy. Delighted, he jumps up and down. Why, it was a sword! Feeling the edge of the needle and finding it smooth puzzles him and he reconsiders his object. Well, whatever it was, it was shiny, pretty and a glorious plaything. Starting to walk east, my prince barely contains his wonder. Each blade of gr is crowned with a bead of water. Rainbows seem to mock him as they flash and disappear when he tries to focus on one in particular. The sky slowly grows dark, my prince was mistaken, banishing the prisms but welcoming the stars. My prince stumbles about, creating wonderful stories for each of the night lights, stories he'd one day whisper into the ear of a child. Craning his neck, the stars wink and merge together into a heavenly blanket as finally all the clouds are carried away.