Stories

The rain had been falling for days. It draped itself across the village like a heavy blanket, soft and gray. Paths turned into rivers. Puddles gathered in hollows and fields.
The world, once green and bright, blurred into a watercolor of mist and silence.

Under the sagging roof of an old woodshed, Lumi lay with her head on her paws, watching the endless drip from the eaves.

Woodbine dozed nearby, his chest rising and falling in a slow, tired rhythm.

Even Pollox, usually the first to spark mischief, sat still beneath a leaning spruce, his coat slowly darkening with damp.

No one spoke.
There was nothing to say.
The rain had pressed itself into their hearts, soft and cold and heavy.

A drop of water slid down Pollox’s nose. He blinked it away, then sighed, shifting his paws restlessly.

"You're going to wear a hole in the ground if you keep that up," Lumi said at last, her voice quiet, almost a whisper against the rain.

Pollox flicked his ears toward her. "Maybe if I do, the sun will have somewhere to come through."

Woodbine opened one eye and huffed a small breath. "Or maybe you'll just make another puddle."

Pollox smiled, but it was a thin, tired thing. He looked out across the flooded path, the low mist hanging between the trees, and felt the weight of it pressing down.

For a moment, he almost gave in, almost curled up to wait out the endless gray. But something small and stubborn stirred inside him.
A spark, faint but real.
A golden ribbon fluttering in the wind like sunlight on water.

He stood up, shook the water from his coat, and walked a few paces forward.

"What are you doing?" Lumi asked, lifting her head.

Pollox didn’t answer.
He watched the way the puddles shivered with every raindrop, the way the water danced even when everything else stood still.
Maybe the world hadn't given up.
Maybe it was only waiting for someone to dance with it.

Before he could think twice, he bounded forward and leapt into the largest puddle he could find.

Splash!

Water rose up in a shining crown around him, and Pollox barked—a bright, ringing sound that cut through the mist.

Lumi lifted her head higher, ears pricking forward.

Woodbine rolled onto his side to see better.

Pollox turned to them, grinning now, real and wide.
"Come on!" he called. "Biggest splash wins!"

For a heartbeat, no one moved.
The rain fell around them, soft and steady.

Then Lumi pushed herself to her feet, water flying from her coat, and trotted out into the open.

"Is that the best you can do?" she said, a spark of mischief flickering in her voice.

With a graceful leap, she landed in a wide puddle, sending ripples racing outward like rings on a drum.

Pollox whooped and jumped aside as droplets splattered him.

Woodbine, watching them both, shook his head slowly—but there was a smile tugging at his mouth.

"If we're doing this," he said, rising and stretching, "we might as well do it properly."

He chose his puddle with care and jumped neatly, sending a perfect sheet of water into the air.

The puddles, once cold and still, became lakes of joy. The rain, unnoticed before, now seemed to drum along with them, tapping the ground into music.

Between leaps, Pollox paused, peering down into a puddle.
His own face stared back at him for a moment, clear and still—then vanished beneath a drop of rain.
A new idea lit in his mind, quick and bright.

"New game!" he barked. "Catch your reflection before it disappears."

"Catch it?" Lumi asked, peering down at her own shifting shape. "You've finally gone mad."

"No, watch!" Pollox tapped the puddle with a quick paw, but the ripples danced away just before he could touch it.

He laughed. "It's harder than it looks!"

Woodbine stepped carefully to a deeper puddle. "Harder for you maybe," he said, darting forward to tap his reflection just before it blurred.

Triumphant barks and laughter filled the air as they chased their shimmering selves across the puddles.

When the puddles began to feel too familiar, Pollox spun sharply, stomping into one with a loud, messy splash that sent droplets flying into Lumi’s face.

She blinked, droplets clinging to her lashes.
"Pollox," she said, her voice low with mock-warning.

"You're it!" Pollox yelped, already bolting away.

Lumi gave chase, her paws skimming the water, her bark bright with laughter.

Woodbine dodged and danced, only to be caught by a well-aimed splash from Lumi.

"Traitor!" he called, sputtering, but grinning all the same.

The world became a blur of silver spray and joyful movement. The rain no longer pressed down — it lifted them up.

At last, when their legs ached and their sides heaved with breathless laughter, the chase slowed. They stood together in the open clearing, puddles rippling around their paws, the mist folding close like a soft blanket.

For a long moment, none of them spoke. Only the sound of the rain filled the air, softer now, more tender, tapping against the leaves, the stones, the puddles, the earth.

Pollox lifted his nose and breathed in deeply. The air smelled clean and green, full of rain and life.

"It’s... different now," Lumi said quietly, her voice just above a whisper.

Woodbine tilted his head, his ears pricking forward. He closed his eyes for a moment, listening—not just to the rain, but to the currents of sound flowing through the mist.

"The rain is singing," he said, his voice low and certain.
"It always does, if you listen."

Pollox stepped closer, his paws stirring a puddle into gentle ripples. "I never heard it before."

"You have to be still enough," Woodbine said, opening his eyes. "Still enough to hear the spaces between the drops."

They stood together, listening.
The rain's quiet rhythm filled the spaces around them — a soft, steady drum that beat not just on the earth, but in their hearts.

Then, slowly, Woodbine moved.

He lifted his head and began to sway, stepping lightly to the rain's hidden song.

Pollox watched him for a moment, then laughed. "Now you’re dancing to puddles?"

Woodbine smiled, his steps slow and sure. "To the water."

Lumi laughed too, a soft, bright sound. "We can't let you dance alone." She lifted her muzzle and sang—a sweet, low howl that spiraled upward, weaving into the mist like a thread of light.

Pollox spun once, twice, stirring silver rings across the puddles.

Together, they wove themselves into the rain-song, their paws painting circles across the flooded clearing, their laughter rising between the drops.

The world blurred at the edges—trees and paths fading into watercolor dreams. Only the warmth between them, the rhythm of the rain, and the shining reflections remained.

For a while, there were no heavy skies, no waiting hearts, only the silver hush of rain, the laughter lingering between the drops, and the joy of a game that could only be played when the world was wet and waiting.

---

That evening, long after the mist had folded itself into the hills, a small fire crackled beneath the sheltering trees. The smoke curled upward into the cooling air, carrying the scent of rain-soaked earth and burning wood.

Pollox lay stretched out on his side, steam rising gently from his damp fur.

Lumi sat nearby, turning a smooth stone between her paws, her coat ruffled from the day’s adventures.

Woodbine rested with his chin on his paws, his eyes half-closed, listening to the soft crackle and pop of the fire.

For a while, they said nothing. Only the fire spoke, weaving warmth into the chilly night.

Pollox shifted, his voice low and content. "I didn’t think today would end like this."

Lumi smiled, her eyes reflecting the flickering flames. "You mean with you falling flat in the biggest puddle?"

Pollox huffed a mock-offended breath. "That was a tactical splash."

Woodbine chuckled quietly. "Tactically soaking everyone, you mean."

Pollox’s tail thumped once against the ground, and he grinned into the firelight.
"I don’t regret it."

"Neither do I," Lumi said, her voice soft, thoughtful.
"The rain didn’t seem so heavy once we danced with it."

Woodbine nodded, his ears twitching toward the gentle patter of a few lingering drops falling from the leaves.
"It’s always singing," he murmured. "We just forget how to hear it."

He shifted slightly, his voice dropping to a low, wondering murmur.
"Who knew when it rains, there’s so much fun hidden between the drops?"

The fire crackled, and somewhere beyond the trees, a nightbird called.

They fell into a companionable silence, the kind that needed no words; the kind born from shared laughter, wet paws, and the memory of a silver world where even the rain had learned to play.

The flames burned low, casting long shadows across the clearing, and the three friends drifted into dreams, the scent of rain and woodsmoke wrapped around them like a blanket, and the song of the water still singing somewhere just beyond sleep.