Thik.... thik....thik...tap....thik....tap...tapthik....taptaptap...tap...

...and then it poured, like always.

The tree was shelter enough, with its wide branches and evergreen spokes prickling out every which way. A muzzle twitched, water landing on it as gently as it could, essential oils of pine lightly scenting it as if the water had not just fallen. The little beast smoothed her ears, her tail, before facing away from the thick brown trunk to watch the rain patter outside of her hideaway.

She could differentiate each little thik thik tap of the water on the branches and the earth as the rain rapped, asking for entry to the flowers and bushes. It would only be welcome for so long, the little beast knew, before everything overflowed. Only so many people could fit. No more were allowed in.

No more were allowed in...

The air was chilly enough without all the water pouring in from that great gash in the side of the boat. Why I had wanted to go on this cruise past icebergs and penguins I never understood. Maybe it was because it is the grandest ship to ever sail? Were those advertisements right? Did they lie to me now, while I am now trapped? Women and Children, Women and Children.... but I am a woman, why is there no room for me? What, it is because I spent my life's savings to get this cruise? Because I am poor and trapped with others in the lower decks? With the rats? I understand that I have to die now, only as the water closes over my head to numb it like it bit the rest of my body. I was told, once, by my grandfather... he committed suicide, you know... that if you wanted to drown it took all you had to concentrate and really try hard to breathe the water. Think of yourself as a fish, trying to breathe. In, out, without choking on it. Don't choke, don't struggle, and it all would be over quite quickly.

I wonder if my hair was like an angel's, in a halo around my head. At least that is what they described when they found my grandmother dead the year after grandfather swallowed that chlorine from the bottle in the back of the shed.

I never will know how I could be incarnated as such a creature as I was in my next life. God didn't believe in magic, so why should I be in a place so full of it that I didn't know my left from my right? Paws, that is.

The rabbit smoothed her ears again. It had become some sort of a habit, editing the position of her silk handkerchief and smoothing her ears. Today, because of the rain, she would wear it as a babushka to keep the rain out of her ears. No self-respecting rabbit likes rain in her ears. The rabbit took careful motions to tie that kerchief on her head without allowing the lace edges to get too crumpled or flip up in the back as they so often did. No matter the weather, she wished to look nice as she took a foray in to the wet world after some food. It was getting close to winter and she must store up something to eat over the cold months.

The rabbit skittered along, trying to keep from becoming too wet as she collected armfuls of clover and flower buds in the leaf she had modeled the basket from. Tender shoots piled on them, with another handful of open-faced flowers. Only the violet ones made it in to her bag, though, considering the effects that poppies would have if ingested. She was a respectable woman, after all. Wringing the thought out of her paws, the journey continued.

The rain had grown too much as the little beast sprinted home. It nearly felt like she was taking a time to leap in a pond or some such nonsense. Her fur was plastered to the cooling skin of her body, wracking it with chills. If she did not get home soon, she might not see her cache wilt in time to put it in her hiding-place.

In the rabbit dove, her fur barely brushing the dirt in the entrance. Down, under the earth she fluttered, dropping her cache to immediately begin frantic movements and nips to dry the water from her soft fluff.

Rain was more trouble than it was worth. All that thik thik tapping it did.