Gods are throwing water down to cleanse their creations.

Simple minds all peering through the drops to find a shelter from it, forgetting that the rain was sent to prune the weak from the herd, sicken those who are too weak to survive and pass on their genetics. They all forget the past. I don't, being around before the generations.

I am strong, my candles don't fizzle out or sputter in the downpour. I stand in the middle of it all, grinning like a mad hatter whilst feeling each of my angers roll down my pelt with the water. Each of my sinful actions is cleaned from my body by each drumming droplet. One could almost see a medicine man cleansing through a ritual, perhaps, as the incense-like smoke is punctured by the rain, floating low like fog from the candles on my antlers.

Whose candles will be extinguished tonight? None. None unless I decide to taint the rain and do so myself. There seems to be efficient shelter for all, as long as I stay out here in the rain.