It started about a day and a half after the celebration. It seems like out of nowhere, these dense, heavy clouds came rolling up the plains, sending big, fat drops started to spatter around us. Everyone immediately grabbed whatever it was they’d been working on and dashed for the shelter of the caves. As Nandi and I ducked into our cave, I noticed several Azu scooping up coals from the fire pit, covering them in ash, and dashing for the “public” caverns that the Kan and the Aket-oizo used.
At first the rain was actually rather pleasant. It has a different smell on Minerva than it does at home. It’s hard to describe; less musty, and sharper, somehow. Perhaps it’s caused by the chlorine. Regardless, the fresh smell is energizing. I hadn’t realized how much dust was in the air, and the perpetual acrid scent of oai droppings on the cliff face was sluiced clean. The rest of the afternoon was spent in a kind of semi-holiday, with everyone mostly staying in their caverns, resting and chatting away the hours.
Even that night was pleasant. I’ve always enjoyed listening to rain as I fall asleep. It’s a comforting feeling to know you’re warm and dry while it’s wet and miserable outside, and the sound drowns out noises that would otherwise wake you; like Nandi’s snoring.
But by the next morning, instead of everything being refreshed and clean, with the sun shining again, it was still raining. In fact, the rain had gotten heavier. Little waterfalls were cascading over our cave entrance and down the cliff face below. I eyed the sodden scenery with dismay.
The entire day was rainy. I’m beginning to realize how unpleasant our ancestors must have had it. I knew academically that life for the Azu-nah wouldn’t stop if it rained. But knowing and experiencing are different. Memory never quite makes being cold and wet seem as bad as when you’re in the thick of it.
My clothes are water resistant, but they’re no match for this kind of drenching. By mid morning I was sopping. My shorts stuck to my thighs in clammy folds, my shoes squelched unpleasantly with each step, and my shirt sleeves actually started to feel noticeably heavy from absorbing so much moisture. My hair kept straggling into my face and mouth, and my fingers had gone all prune-like. But I didn’t dare change out into my other set of clothes and risk getting them soaked too. So I squelched through the afternoon, gathering fruit in the muck.
Fortunately for me, the Azu-nah seem to be just as sensitive, if not more so, to the wet and cold as I am. The foraging ended much earlier than it usually did, and we all gathered around the communal fires in the public caves as soon as we could. I went to be early. I stripped to the skin, wrung a veritable river out of my clothes, hung them to dry (pfft. Yeah right) and burrowed into my sleeping bag. I slept like a dead thing until morning.
Yesterday was just more of the same. I would probably be down with a head cold by now if the rain was genuinely cold. It’s not what you’d call comfortable by any means, but it isn’t that kind of heat-leaching cold that makes you feel like you’ll never be warm again. No, instead you just have to deal with constantly having every stitch of clothing on your body be soaking wet.
This morning is the “chores” day in the Azu-nah’s typical three day cycle, and most everyone is attending to things while staying dry in their caves. Kohric has promised a lesson tomorrow, so hopefully I can at least have a few dry hours over the next few days.
I hope this isn’t how Cold Rains is in its entirety. It’d be a shame to make it all this way just to drown on my way to breakfast.
Just so everyone knows ahead of time, next week's entry will be a little bit delayed due to some schedule conflicts. It will not be up Tuesday. It will either be up Thursday or Friday. I'm not sure which yet, but I promise it will be up.
As someone who has gone camping and been freezing to death or sopping wet before, I do completely understand Tee's pain. It is not much fun.
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