Jamie's joints, tight and aching from his previous desk-bound vigil, sighed in relief as the Rosendahl reached towards the sky. In awe of how Jamie's body was elongating, the patriarch's jaw soon stretched of its own volition, spreading wide in a massive yawn. An odd sense of relief burrowed its way into Jamie's chest, eventually escaping and rising into the atmosphere through a breath of air. Strangely enough, the clouds decided to mimic Jamie's sigh of relief, liberating the liquid previously incarcerated within their weightless bodies. Although Jamie had the sense to bring an extra coat in anticipation of a fall shower, it proved too weak to withstand the heavy rain.
Despite the soaking, however, Jamie seemed infinitely more at ease than recent events would warrant. As he studied a nearby puddle, spitting and gurgling from the rain, Jamie felt all emotion leave him, just for a brief moment. It was a foreign and surreal thing; to be left as a shell, devoid of feelings. Yet it was a welcome one.
Continuing to watch the incessant downpour, Jamie steadied himself for the backlash to come.
