It's raining.
Under the temporary wooden pavilion, Tilan stood at the railing, gazing out at the wilderness shrouded in the veil of rain.
Whenever the wind blew, the sound of the rain would become denser, then it would alternate back and forth between heaven and earth, and then return once more. Thus, it alternated repeatedly. With each gust of wind, the fine rain would drift into the pavilion, wetting the railing and the ground.
A few droplets also fell on the girl's face and her forehead's strands of hair, spreading a fresh scent mixed with earth and rain, like a thin mist enveloping her.
The world became very quiet. The rain curtain blocked the sight, but it also brought a vastness after release. Standing quietly under the rain lines of the sky, many narrow and trivial emotions dissipated.
