A long, low rumble of thunder rolled over the forest, only slightly behind the hard rain already pelting the landscape and every living thing in it. To Shanti, a young Absol, the sound only seemed to be stating the obvious. Obvious, that is, to everyone but Shanti; for she had been born without the weather-sensing apparatus that every other Absol sported over one ear, and the world had reminded her of this almost every chance it got in the year or so of her independence.
Now, drenched and huddling inside a shallow cavern, she wondered if it was just her imagination or if the storm was mocking her. For some reason she always seemed to get wetter than anybody else--or more windblown, or muddier, or knocked off her perch harder than really necessary. It was as if the elements were laughing at her, poking fun at her disability. She'd mostly managed to maintain a sense of humor about it; most of the time she simply laughed right back. But today she didn't really feel like playing "Gotcha!" with the weather, and the whole thing had her rather depressed.
Her mother had always tried to reassure her at times like this, reminding her that even an Absol who knew what was coming still had to get out of it like everybody else. And, indeed, the mere fact that she was still alive after five seasons on her own had to be proof of *something.* This thought was the most comforting one she'd had all day. She relaxed a little, laying all the way down and resting her chin on her paws. With a long sigh, seemingly echoed by another round of thunder, she thought of all the clever little adaptations she'd made to compensate, and knew that, while she might never really be at home in the wider world, she would endure--and, hey, maybe she'd even turn out okay...
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Marius the Wanderer: Roleplayer, Storyteller and Citizen of Rome