Puddles and Strangers // will
Apr 25, 2014 17:38:55 GMT -5
Post by Aurum on Apr 25, 2014 17:38:55 GMT -5
Does, Writes, Signs, Remembers
Crwydryn Laurea loved the rain. She loved the smell of it hitting the dry earth and the fresh, clean feeling it left once the storm clouds pass. She loved the way the world looked as though pulled through a coffee filter as rain drummed on the metal roofs in the District. Even the industrial part that was so covered with smog and soot nearly all the time, looked relatively unblemished. The rain provided a hushed barrier to the outside world. When it rains, most people hid themselves away indoors, waiting for the storms to pass. Dryn, however, loved to walk around absently in downpours. One would think it was a bit odd, seeing as she worked with cats, animals that despised water with every inch of their soul. Ocelots, however, don't avoid water. They're even adept swimmers, often going for a dip in the man-made river in their enclosure on hot days. And so, Dryn loving the rain wasn't as odd as one might think.
It was raining today. The storm clouds grumbled loudly as Dryn strolled beneath them, barefoot, her feet splashing through puddles. She always walked barefoot in the rain. It made her feel closer to the Earth, somehow. Living in the forest gave her a certain affinity to the land and all it held. Not that she remembered much of her struggles back then. It was so long ago, she only held hazy glimpses of the past before the Districts. Her adoptive father, Kinkajou, never thought her of any higher power, though if she ever began to accept a deity, she supposed it would probably be the Earth, or some personification of it. The Earth created so many amazing feats, and survived so long, it would be hard not to. Dryn glanced up and laughed as a particularly loud clap of thunder rang through the streets, as though it was agreeing with her silent thoughts. Filled with a sudden, irrational joy, she took off running down the streets, splashing water haphazardly around, laughing all the way. By the time she stopped, out of breath, she had left the town square and had entered the residential area near the power plants.
Dryn rarely came here. She always disliked factories and the way the pumped out smoke and ash, slowly destroying the world around them. Now, however, the giant chimneys were quiet and still, the rain roaring mutely on the metal. The staff had gone home, seeing as it was nearing the time most people ate at. Dryn had no intention of heading home just yet, though. Jou, as she often called her late father, had often taken her to the less fortunate parts of the District to show her how lucky and blessed they truly were. He'd often bring food or money to give to random people in the street. They had plenty to spare, he would tell the young, mute girl who'd watch curiously, Others needed it much more. The mute took this lesson with her everyday, even more so after he passed. Both her and her father had experienced hunger and poverty when they were young, and that humility was one of the best lessons she ever received. Kindness was the best thing one could give another. Dryn had not planned coming here today, or she would have brought some food with her. She did have some money on her, and if anyone was out, she would gladly give it to them. She never wished to be recognized or praised for her deeds, she only hoped that those who received her kindness would pass it on in their own way.