It was still drizzling the next evening. Iris donned a rain poncho and bulldozed her way out the door. Agnes didn't bother with a coat, only grabbed Nirel's arm and dragged him into the rain.

"Oh!" she cried with delight. "The drops are cold! Do you feel them?"

"Eh, not really." His gaze swept from her rapt face to the fringe of dark trees that bordered the property. Over the sound of the storm, he could hear Iris clomping through the underbrush, pointedly searching for ...