Puffy hovered beside big tall clouds. They rumbled — boom, boom, boom — and sent rain into the green valley. Puffy scrunched his face and pushed, but only a tiny white sigh floated out.
His floppy edges drooped. He drifted lower, lower, until he could see the valley floor far below.
Below, flower heads hung droopy and brown, their stems curled like closed fists. Puffy's white fur felt heavy. He sank a little closer to the earth.
He tucked his knees and gripped his edges, bearing down with all his might. A few fat raindrops tumbled from his belly, but they vanished before they hit the ground.
Puffy gasped and blinked, then froze. His shadow had spread across the valley like a cool gray blanket.
Puffy hovered still and watched as the shadow slid over the thirsty flowers.
Pink petals shivered open. Yellow petals unfurled. Red petals tilted up toward him, reaching, reaching.
Puffy's fur puffed out round and bright.
Puffy floated on, slow and proud, letting his soft shadow glide over every row of flowers.
A warm valley breeze ruffled his edges. Bright blooms waved at him.
Puffy drifted across the green valley, happy.
The flowers reached toward him. The warm breeze carried his shadow, row by row, across the green valley.