Drumming, rapping in a melancholy rhythm upon the dark, rich soil. Creating obscure little depressions, the foreboding mass of clouds, floating in their own way upon the graying welkin breaks to allow a sliver of sunlight to escape. From that audible veil of flailing droplets an incarnadine form is perceptible, embarking in deliberate lethargy unto the obscure domicile. A slight moments hesitancy is quickly resolved as now the lustrous veil no longer conceals the ensanguine creature. The mocking bird uncaged, her lethargic gait is no longer continued as a more brusque way of stepping is acquired. It seems the onslaught of rain no longer encumbers the ingressing distaff. Miniscule beads 'embedd' themselves onto the tortuous mass of fibril causing needless embellishment, as whatever comes seems washed away the next instant. Argute scrutiny of the surrounding docimasy is portrayed by the stilling figure, no longer embarking through the convoluted rain, now totally corporeal to the naked eye. And from this atorcious vista a stray illuminance from the crimson star embarks in timid steps. A lighthouse amongst the tenebrous earth, and lustrous rain. As what was a previously a torrentuous drumming diminishes to a tame shimmering. The scarlet figure glances upwards towards the clearing welking, no longer begrimed by the foreboding clouds of gray. Her mass of 'saturated' locks appear like gossamer as the filtering illuminance continues to thicken through her tortuous locks. She seems to be trying to measure the dimensions of this eternal sky, which now yawns in its former glory. She appears to be contemplating a past speculation, before once more commencing. Her bloated ventiducts greedily inhaling whatever redolence the vast encompassment has to offer, before tucking her maw towards the oscillating chest. Sinew running over sinew, as her drenched epidermis takes on an incadescent sheen. Standing there, a figure to match your dreams..