Darkened grey smudges of wool threateningly surrounded the sky; like a predator would encircle its prey. A startling low rumble rang loud in the cool fall air, the sky roaring with satisfaction. Trickles of liquid hit the ground with as much force as a small child. Hungrily, drizzles turn into canon fires, barricading everything in its way. A sense of cleanliness caresses the atmosphere, washing away all impurities.
A dense earthly sweet smell rises from the ground, enveloping everything within its soft embrace. The skies suddenly calm, as if it were comforted, coaxed even. The fluffy smudges don't part completely - although the sun peeks out timidly- and rather look like it's preparing for an even more vicious round.
Rosalie, however, only heard the sound of rain patter across her windo
