#agh idk it feels soft for whump whatever

[re-whump]

Augusnippets Day 3 - Thunderstorm

hey new character, they’re gonna stick around a bit, at least for this event! gotta get my size whump in

Contains: tiny whumpee (borrower), blunt force trauma, risk of hypothermia, loss of comfort belongings

At first, Mozzy assumed the heavy rumbling over their little shelter was a truck passing by on the highway overhead and didn’t bother to finish waking up. A truck would stay on the road, and was no particular threat, no matter how threatening it sounded. Mozzy sighed and tucked themself tighter into their hammock, listening instead to the gentle plink-plink-plink of the rain.

The storm refused to be ignored. All at once, the rumbling rolled into a bang loud enough to shake the ground, loud enough to make Mozzy flinch. The stones that made up the roof to their little shelter shifted and an icy stream dumped straight onto their head.

They sputtered and flailed, trying to shake themself free of the cold, and spilled out of the hammock into an ankle-deep pool that was just as frigid. A puddle outside had spilled through the entryway and flooded the small burrow. Mozzy gasped and dove for their journals, but it was much too late. The paper stacks were nothing but unreadable mush. They took stock of what was left and despaired. Half their food was soaked and m the slight current washing through their home had washed away most of their favorite trinkets. They whined to no one when they couldn’t find their prized Lego head.

Mozzy’s pant legs wicked up the water and they shivered. They had to leave. They hadn’t thought to waterproof a shelter made this late in the year and now it was thoroughly ruined. They’d just have to hope they had better luck in the nearby human building than they had in the last. They threw on their coat, gathered what they could from the wreckage, and abandoned the ruined shelter.

The world outside was even more dangerous. It wasn’t raining.

Mozzy had never seen hail before, not personally, and at first they didn’t recognize it. That was one of the downsides of only learning things secondhand by overhearing humans discuss them. This wasn’t falling frozen water, this was frozen hell. Chunks of ice the size of Mozzy’s fist swarmed the ground, first falling from the sky at debilitating speeds, then bouncing around off the stones Mozzy had just been hiding under.

The frozen pellets pelted the little smallfolk and, agile as Mozzy was, they barely made it a half a foot from the burrow before they made a retreat, cold and sore and bruised. They hugged their belongings close and backed into their flooded shelter, huddling in the driest corner for warmth. They wished there was someone else around to hold them and share their body heat, but they were alone.

The storm continued its deadly tantrum but eventually, the hail let up into rain and Mozzy sloshed back out to look for new shelter. The rain was relentless and kicked up a mist that made it impossible to see more than a few inches in front of them. They grit their teeth, rubbed at their bruises, and pushed forward. At least the mist wouldn’t kill them.