Kyna was beginning to love thunderstorms. She was not quite sure if it was the rush of rain or the cool wind, if it was the burst of light zigging across the sky or the mighty roar that followed, but the young lady found herself utterly invigorated every time one rolled around. So she did not turn tail and head for Oak Tree Bend at the first sign of a storm, distant rumbling overhead, but pricked her ears and picked up her step.
If the rains became too hard, the girl would find shelter to wait them out – otherwise, she was content to continue her run, stretch out her body, seek nothing but her own satisfaction.
It came sooner than she realized, for not long after the distant rumbles had started, Kyna came upon a small glade of trees. Trees lined with some of the brightest flowers the girl had ever seen, beautiful and bright and pink, more vibrant even than some of the fireweed meadows lingering outside the trees. “Oh!” she exclaimed with delight, slowing to a halt. At the trunk of one tree, she reared up, front paws landing on the bark as she stretched her neck, trying to snap a bud from its branch. “Just a little higher!”