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Thunder and lightning in the night, and, eventually, rain, loud and thick.
Unsleeping, I wrote the following, which may find a place in Deep Terrain:
Thunder barked, the Stormdog roving. Lightning splashed. Rain followed, itself thunderous.
The Stormdog, childstory said, had climbed out of a great chasm one day long ago, a canine of leviathan proportions. HIs eyes are rain, his jaws implacable as death. He runs in the dark of cloud, worrying at the world with sharp teeth and playful shakes of his shaggy head.
Unsleeping, I wrote the following, which may find a place in Deep Terrain:
Thunder barked, the Stormdog roving. Lightning splashed. Rain followed, itself thunderous.
The Stormdog, childstory said, had climbed out of a great chasm one day long ago, a canine of leviathan proportions. HIs eyes are rain, his jaws implacable as death. He runs in the dark of cloud, worrying at the world with sharp teeth and playful shakes of his shaggy head.
