In the stillness of the sky, I gather, awaiting the call of gravity. Emerging from vapor clustering into icy crystalline beauty, I tumble. Objective and starkly journalistic, I witness the unnoticed.
My descent begins as a lonely drop, diverging paths mapped in the ink of clouds. Below, a world brimming with care and chaos, untouched by my transparency: rooftops shine, eager soil quenches thirst.
The sounds of the city drift upwards: sirens, engines, hushed conversations, all happening far below the skim. Cooling, I meld with others, we copy the choreography of Fates—fluid, sly, unseen.
Adventurous spirits anticipate now, the clatter of light ruby merging with azure conduits. Bridges, woven like silken webs—each connection verbose and undeterred, writing me bold upon the dusk palette.
News of the unseen droplets continue in the tangled narrative of the Night Kaleidoscope and their silent hit. Discover more stories along these trodden paths, perhaps include a word from the constituted Elemental Council of Tides.