On Dogavios, the clouds almost always smile. But that afternoon a gray cloud appeared on the horizon, frowning, and it began to go: RUUUMBLE.
It was a big sound, and it made the ground shake a tiny bit. The stones stopped singing. The flowers closed up.
Pigúiça, who was playing near the stream, perked up her ears. “What a racket!” she said. And then she noticed that someone was missing from the game. “Where's Rex?”
They looked and looked. Fofuxo sniffed around and pointed to a pile of giant leaves. Inside, something green was trembling, and a long tail was wiggling out.
Pigúiça pushed a leaf aside. There was Rex, curled up in a ball, with his tiny arms covering his ears. “Rex?” she called softly. “Are you okay?”
“I'm not scared,” said Rex, with a shaky voice. “It's just that... I'm a little scared. Okay, I'm very scared.” RUUUMBLE! He jumped.
Pigúiça sat down next to him. She didn't say it was nothing. She just said, “I got scared the first time, too.” Fofuxo sat on the other side, making a warm wall of fur.
“Do you know what I think?” said Pigúiça. “I think that cloud isn't angry. It's sleepy. And when someone is very, very sleepy, they snore.” Rex peeked through his fingers. “Snore?” “Listen again.”
RUUUMBLE, went the cloud. Fofuxo went “Hrmph” and snored softly, just for fun. Rex laughed. The cloud snored again, and Fofuxo answered with another snore. The two of them snored together, and Rex let out a little giggle, then another.
Then the rain began, gently: pit, pit, pat. Rex stuck his head out of the leaves. The gray cloud was drifting away slowly, dragging its little rain behind it like a blanket, and at the very end it yawned a teeny rumble, far off.
“It's going to sleep,” said Rex. “It is,” said Pigúiça. “And you?” Rex thought about it. “I think I am, too.”
The three of them went back to Rex's den, and Pigúiça covered the entrance with a little roof of leaves. Every time a snore came from far away, she said, “Good night, cloud.” And Rex answered, softly, “Good night.”
The rumbles grew so distant that they were barely there. Rex already had his eyes closed, his tiny arms hugging a pile of leaves, as if he were hugging the cloud itself. Fofuxo fell asleep soon after. Pigúiça was the last, listening to the rain fall, pit, pit, pit, until the rain turned into sleep.
