Wyslion

He felt it before seeing it, an instinct making him look up from his gathering, towards the canopy. A leaf in the branch above him jerked down suddenly, gray sky visible for an instant, and a drop fell through the gap. Clinster was frozen, eyes fixed on the incoming translucent pearl of water accelerating towards him, its surface rippling under the force of its passage through the air.

A shout came up from a higher branch, “RAAAIINNN!”

This snapped him out of his trance and he spun, already leaping. He had been slow though, way too slow. The raindrop smacked into the wood where he had been standing and its erupting wave engulfed him, pulling him over the edge with it. He saw the branch he had been standing on snatched away upwards, his vision blurred by the water, and glimpsed the next one, lower down, rushing up. Clinster was about to hurtle past it, falling further, when a hand lashed out to grab him. He felt himself pulled back with force, away from the edge.

Melmun had caught him, one of her great hands wrapped around his wrist. Once she had dropped him on his feet she threw a quick reassuring smile at him, but dropped it quickly before pushing him in front of her, shouting: “Move!”, propelling him to the shelter of the closest mushroom. They dodged more drops, their numbers increasing rapidly, battered and slapped on all sides by the explosions. As he weaved frantically towards the mushroom, he saw others bunched under it, shouting encouragements. They neared, feet slipping on the wet wood, as a drop burst behind them right at their feet, finally propelling them forward under the mushroom.

They lay there for a while, breathing hard, drenched but smiling. The others were sitting around now, watching the spectacle, wondering what the hell the treetop patrol had been doing, and why they had not been warned.

The drumming of the rain picked up in earnest, deafening, drowning out conversation. It seemed they would be here a while.