Yellow is actually one of my least favorite colors. I acknowledge its presence and importance as a color, as well as the symbolism it holds, but pure, bright yellow isn't that attractive of a color to me. Perhaps this comes from my experience with paints, perhaps it's just one of my least favorite colors. You may not see that from this story, but in other drafts I have in mind for yellow in dealing with other stories, well, it's a fairly different outcome. As much as I dislike yellow, I feel I kind of fail at writing cute things, so I guess...this one is just a big poop for me or something. Regardless I thought of sun showers, which is something I feel just doesn't happen enough.
Also I envision this to be before Dmitri gets thrown from the horse into the mud puddle. So. Tough luck, guy.
Yellow
It was just their luck. To avoid bandits they had chosen to walk on a quiet forest road as opposed to hitch-hiking along the more-traveled paths. It was a beautiful day to walk, and there were various signs for family-owned inns, all of them appearing cheerful in the bright sunlight. Even the constant bantered between Dmitri and Anya were light-hearted, practically music to Vlad's weary ears.
But then after their midday meal clouds rolled in, and it started to rain. Pour, even, and soon they were huddled miserably underneath a big tree, waiting the storm out. Even Pooka seemed dismayed by the change of weather, mostly because absolutely nobody was patient enough to deal with the awful scent of a wet muddy dog. The struggling puppy flailed valiantly against Vlad's arms, eventually giving up with an unhappy sigh and a lick of the nose.
The rain changed in a bipolar manner; at one minute being a fine sprinkle, the next becoming a stormy torrent. But despite all of their waiting it never stopped. Finally, over an hour later the relentless rain waned down to just several fat drops from the sky. Anya poked her head curiously out from underneath the great tree as the sky brightened and cleared. Dmitri bitterly and sarcastically cautioned her against bolts of lightning, but she seemed to not hear him as her eyes reached ever skyward, rain from the leaves above falling onto and gliding down her face.
"The sun's coming out," She announced, her voice somewhat distant.
"Then why is it still raining?" Dmitri complained as Vlad caught Pooka before he scrambled away. Anya didn't answer, only inched closer to the edge of the shadow of the tree. Dmitri warned her that she was going to get wet, but again she didn't seem to hear. It wasn't long until the sun was shining fiercely, yet despite this the dark clouds surrounding it still rained. The two men stared up at the anomaly in small wonder, Dmitri more disgusted than his older companion.
Anya turned away from the sky slowly, meeting their gazes. Some far away spark was in her eyes, a sort of youthful light that was precious in its vitality. A smile stretched across her face, and she scooped Pooka up from Vlad's arms and twirled out into the open. Dmitri started in surprise, and moved as if to pull her back underneath the relative dryness of the tree, but Vlad's arm steadied him. The young man looked back to him in protest, mouth gaping open in confusion. Vlad could say nothing to explain it, but simply let his hand drop. He knew that Dmitri would not make another move to bring her back after that, along with the knowledge that it was fruitless to try and explain such a care-free attraction to wonder to someone who had had such wonder stolen from him as a child.
From underneath the darkened shadow of the tree they watched as Anya danced, a merry melody that they couldn't hear guiding her steps across the dirt and stones, over the roots and between the interlocking branches. Soon her hair shone as the rain soaked through, and when she let Pooka down to run about the damp forest floor she turned her face to the sun and the rain, smiling brilliantly as the water droplets traced her skin. Dmitri was in awe at her character, at how she embraced something that held no significance whatsoever. He was gawking so much that he almost didn't realize that she had stopped and was staring at him, still smiling. When she grabbed him by the wrist he sputtered as she pulled him out into the open, and when she began to throw him about in a sloppy waltz he only then was able to barely say words to her.
"No—wait, Anya, I really can't dan—," Anya pulled him around in a wide circle and he cried in dismay as his feet twisted and stumbled over each other, ducking to avoid an overhanging branch. She was laughing merrily, not in the slightest bit of spite, and soon he heard Vlad's deep laughter join hers, and as the world around him swirled into a yellow blur from the strength of the sun reflecting off of the rain drops spattering about him he only wished for him to not get injured.
He tripped over a root and stuttered out a scream before Anya caught him, righting him so he was standing again and, thankfully, no longer dancing. She laughed as she examined his expression of panic and fear.
"Aw, come on Dmitri! Have a little fun!"
"That was not fun," Dmitri panted. Part of him was lying when he said that.
Anya twisted her mouth and as her blue eyes flashed he feared that she would swing him around unexpectedly again, but instead she smiled and nodded, and gave a perfect little bow just as they had taught her to do. Having been dismissed, Dmitri retreated quickly back to the safety of the big tree, head lowered in embarrassment. Anya followed close behind, grasping Vlad's hands and leading him out. Vlad, laughing, joined her in an improvised dance where neither one really knew what the other was doing. They simply were enjoying the smells, sights, sounds, and feelings of the atmosphere, from each shining drop of honey from the clouds above to the soft shadows of the leaves silhouetted by the joyous sun. They laughed and forgot who they were, for they didn't need names or identities or pasts here. All was one under the sun shower.
Dmitri watched from the secluded shade of the tree. Somehow he didn't really noticed, but he was starving with envy. He knew that there was something intangible that they had that he did not understand nor possess. Yet for just a moment he had felt something as Anya was wildly swinging him around to and fro. Some sort of candle flickered back to life inside of him for just a moment, and during that one moment he had a sort of liberation happen within him. But for the life of him he could not pinpoint it; he understood nothing. He couldn't tell what had triggered it, why he had felt that way, and if it was that feeling that was making his companions skip about so festively on their toes. Sighing, he leaned up against the tree.
Pooka suddenly pranced into his vision from behind. The little dog had sniffed around their suitcases, and was about to rejoin Anya and Vlad. Dmitri watched, stupefied for a moment before he burst forth in pursuit of the mutt, because as he watched he realized that the mongrel was holding his hat in its filthy little jaws.
Suddenly they were in between Vlad and Anya, interrupting them completely. Dmitri was shouting in anger and frustration as the little dog, interpreting it as a game, hopped about, uncaring about Dmitri's hat dragging in the mud. Stumbling and slipping, Dmitri fell onto the muddy forest floor as he gave a futile leap to catch Pooka. Undeterred even by this, he scowled and scrabbled for the mutt that was always just beyond his grasp. Howling in rage as he vaguely heard Anya and Vlad's voice in the background, he chased Pooka around in tight, impossible circles that the four-legged puppy could easily handle while Dmitri kept slipping and nearly falling with his clumsiness. All the while he watched in dismay as his hat slowly turned from gray to brown, decorated with many wet dead leaves. How he was going to clean it without staining it he didn't know.
Finally, Anya's skinny arms caught Pooka by his round haunches, and she raised him up. Dmitri growled and cursed, straightening up as she coaxed his hat out from Pooka's jaws. Smiling, she handed his hat to him.
"Here, since you wanted it so much." she offered. Dmitri looked at it, watched as the sun glinted off of the brown water that dripped from the brim, looked at the dirt and the dead leaves stuck to the massive stain that marred most of the fabric. It looked absolutely ugly, a far cry from the sharpness that it had once been. He had gotten that hat through good luck, and he had loved it ever since. It was a perfect fit, and was practical in every way, especially by making him look professional and unassuming at the same time out on the streets. Frowning, he waved it away.
"No, nevermind. Not anymore."
Anya raised her eyebrows skeptically, and placed the hat on his head without brushing any of the debris off. Dmitri struggled away from her, but stopped to glare as she spoke.
"Oh come on, it...It makes you look nice," Her smile turned wry, "Besides, it matches with your outfit now."
Dmitri dropped his mouth open, then looked down. Dirt, grime, and filthy water stained his clothes, leaving absolutely no mercy for him. Groaning inwardly, upset, he didn't even try to brush anything off. His insides felt scrambled, but when Anya laughed happily he involuntarily buried his sickened emotions. Her laughter brought him to a smile—allbeit a very dry and unhappy one—and he began to pick the dead leaves off of his hat, throwing them at Pooka as punishment.
"Shall we continue? The rain has stopped and we've only a few hours until sunset," Vlad suggested happily, placing his own (dry and clean) hat on his head. Anya and Dmitri agreed, gathering up their suitcases as they continued to walk down the sheltered path underneath the yellow sun filtered by glittering leaves.