Storm
When the flock were younger, they loved thunderstorms. There was something about the rhythmic pattern that enticed them.
Max would sit on the window sill, gazing out at the dark sky and pretend that, for once, she was a normal girl.
Iggy would stand very still and not make the slightest sound. Even though he could not see the rain drops, he captured the beauty of them as he listened to each one hit the ground.
Nudge, surprisingly, stopped talking. She didn't dare interrupt anyone's reveries. Instead, she cleared her mind and just watched.
Gazzy liked the thunder better than the rain. It reminded him of a million bombs going off at once. Each crack would make him feel more powerful and brave.
Angel didn't understand much of what was going on. All she knew was everything and everyone was calm and she liked it.
Yes, much of the flock cherished the storm; all except one.
Who would have guessed that Fang would be the bird-kid huddle under the blankets scared out of his wits.
A/N: I love thinking about how the flock were as children. =) Reviews?