A/N: 5:27am, too awake to sleep but too tired to function enough for drawing. Inspired by Forest's rain yesterday, and the storm that keeps banging against my windows right now.
Cut'd.

~

The howling wind felt bitter against the youth's eager ears. It blew right inside them, moaning, whistling and rattling against the silky inner earlobe. The young deer shook his head to scare that noise away, took a wobbly step forwards with his head lowered and eyes keenly fixed on the scenery before him, but everywhere was quiet.
He rose his head up again when the blowing wind calmed for the moment and he listened: sound of falling water was everywhere. The sky was crying. The pond's surroundings were wet and empty.

The deer retreated into the tall grass and charged for the forest, up that hill he had been playing on during daylight, and he kneeled in front of those two white stone-carved characters he'd seen others kneel before, too. During the daylight, they blessed those who showed most respect - the deer figured that if he bowed his head before them for long enough, they'd show mercy and make the sky stop crying.

His knees dug into the wet grass. As he laid his weight on them, the ground below became slippery with mud, and even though he tried hard to stay up, the ground got better of him.

Thump.

Mud on his face, the deer boy staggered up again, on all fours. His head hung low, ears drawn back against the top of the head. He wished there was someone to explain this to him. Even the stone figures stood quiet, mocking his efforts and his fall, possibly thinking in their stone minds how silly he looked with all that dirt on his face.
No, if they wouldn't help, the deer wouldn't bother.

Slipping downhill, the deer ran back towards the pond. The usually clear air was full of white fog and the tears falling down from skies, wetting his soft fur and making his tail heavy. He forced his cloven hooves into the soiled ground and cried.

Drip, drip, drip... and then, someone answered him. A deep voice informed the youth of the answerer's standing - a full grown stag, not too far away. He cried again, now eagerly waiting for an answer. The same stag answered him, but then there was another sound, the voice of a fawn.

They hadn't disappeared, after all.
When the deer turned to face the direction of the answers he'd heard, a choir of young froglets opened their voices in the pond.

Perhaps the tears were natural.

As the deer travelled deeper into the forest, he opened his mind for new experiences - he learned to like the two opposites, moist still air under those thick-branched old trees and the heavy fall of the waterdrops in open spots. Usually in these spots was sunlight, but now they were almost as shady as the ground below the trees. Slowly even this turned into a curiosity more than a threat, and the young deer hid underneath the trees to charge into the open areas, chasing the drops with his tongue.

He sensed being about as far as he had gone alone before, nearby the large rock formation he had napped on earlier. Now he could see the stag with that fawn - no, there were two fawns - nearby, playing on a clear meadow. They were catching drops of water too, slipping and falling on the grass but looking as if they enjoyed it; one of the fawns disappeared into the forest on the opposite side of the meadow, only to charge right back there and fall on her face to the grass which then carried her slender figure onwards for a short slide.
The deer boy tilted his head, walking slowly, cautiously towards the playful group.
Before he could step in shadows, the stag noticed him and leaped a few long leaps to where he was hiding. His dark eyes met the youth's shy, startled gaze and he fell into a gracious bow to show the youth shouldn't fear - then he tilted his head towards the now curiously staring fawns and the meadow.

Have you seen the rain before? Every fawn should play in the rain, if not more than once. Follow us, young one. Try not to slip on the grass, unless on purpose.

The youth blinked, nodded and bowed. He joined the stag when he turned around to return. They walked out on the meadow, and the youth could see the clouds cracking, letting the moon take a short glimpse at the forest below before disappearing again.