An experimentation in shading and giving in to the imperfections of tablet drawing that...well, it just kinda took a life of its own.
This story ended up accompanying it:
A boy is playing around in the rain in a nearby field, squishing his toes in the mud and looking at the puddles. A group of boys come by and start picking on him for being alone. They don't understand how he can get pleasure out of watching the rain. They don't like him.
The boys rough him up a little. One of them shoves--although it's more like throwing, because he's so thin and small--the boy across the field.
He slides along the ground, skidding to a stop at the edge of a retention basin. The basin is surrounded by reeds and other plants that like damp dirt.
A toad is seeking shelter from the rain beneath these plants. He is eye-level with the boy. And in his mouth is a flower.
The boy doesn't move, or speak. He stares at the toad.
The toad stares back.
The group of boys have lost interest, and wandered away, blurry shapes disappearing in the rainy murk.
The boy and the toad wait patiently in the rain. They know that soon, the rain will stop.
And the skies will be clear again.