A word.

It was dark and rainy. Wild swirls of clouds littered in the grayish black sky like the masterpiece of a long lost artist. People scattered away from the slaughter of raindrops, refusing to be drenched. But there was a lone silhouette in the rain soaking wet, yet not shivering like one would be expected to, in this chilly November rain. The silhouette stood ram rode straight, strides steady and powerful. Whoever it might be, breezed through the worrisome rain, not as much of a ghost of a stumble, as if something like a silly rain couldn't hope to be a hurdle in the way of its destination...