Inyoni's search for his white rain continued, though recently didn't seem to get further than the savana. He had found a few "helpfull" dogs so far, who seemed to look at him oddly, but were otherwise accepting.
This place was a lot different to the other places of Africa, it seemed, more friendly.. and welcoming. Maybe his search was coming close to an end, a sign that maybe he'll find his white rain.
He stared up at the starry sky, sitting back on his haunches in the long grass. He started thinking more about this rain, and what caused it. He had never seen it before in his consciousness, but he was convinced it must exist somewhere. The rain that fell like small feathers, and stuck to the land like a quilt.
He'll find his answers someday, he was sure.
