The Little Cloud Who Couldn't Rain

Previously

…He felt a warmth spread through him, not from the sun, but from within. It was the warmth of purpose, the warmth of belonging. He was Nimbus, the cloud who painted the sky with joy. And that, he decided, was a very wonderful thing indeed. He continued to shape-shift, a playful dance of white against the blue, leaving a trail of happy sighs and giggles in his wake. The world below was a tapestry of color and sound, and he, Nimbus, was a vibrant thread woven into its very fabric, a thread made of wonder and delight.