A/N: Be forewarned, this is pointless, cute, and written very late at night. The plot took hold and began to eat my brain, so, I wrote it down. Yes, sooner or later there will be twenty eight of these. Enjoy!

After facing nothing but death, destruction and general mayhem for the last few eternities, Fai had fully expected to have a great deal on his mind-for a very long time. Yet in this most recent of worlds, the mage had been pleasantly surprised to find that his greatest worry was an efficient method of getting mud out of his cloak. The thick, dark substance clung to everything it touched, dripping black muck onto the white fabric of his cloak. Syaoran and Sakura were having a fine time somewhere to his left, slipping and sliding in the unfamiliar conditions. Giving up for the time being, the mage stood back and watched them flail for a moment before stepping forward to help. He had scarcely taken three steps when a sharp cry of "Oi! Mage!" reached his ears. Fai spun a little too quickly, nearly losing his footing, when something wet hit the back of his head with a wet smacking sound. He jerked forwards, lifted of his feet by the force of impact. The mages hand flew to the back of his hood- and came into contact with the same sticky mud that the two teenagers were battling not far away, struggling even harder as they fought back laughter.

So he wanted to play that game, eh? Fine, play they would. Fai rose slowly, turned slowly, blinked slowly, and then cranked his arm down at a speed that would have made any pitcher green with envy. Kurogane never saw it coming. Unfortunately, neither did Syaoran when Sakura decided that perhaps mud had a purpose in life after all. Sacrificing any hope of clean clothes, the travelers were soon hurling mud left and right.

A mud snowman was, of course, inevitable, although it was debatable who was more enveloped in the substance, the mudman of his constructors. By the end of their project sleep was a unanimous choice, tomorrow they must search for this world's feather. Yet, perhaps the only way to truly heal a soul is to lift its burden for the moments whose light can inspire it through the hate and pain that eventually come to claim all. Truly, who knows better than they who fight it day after day, the tragedies of death and the cruelties life? And who more deserves a reprieve, a glorious rest from the torture of life?

A/N: Please R&R! What would you like to see, what did you hate/love?