Thunder doesn't clap on New Terra, it crackles, rumbles and then booms like an angry God. Despite the turmoil outside, Katreena contentedly hummed to herself while darning the sleeve of one of her husband's shirts. Timothy read a book by the firelight that flickered around the room like a pet that would not rest. His little sisters played with their ragdolls on the floor next to him, one with red yarn hair and the other with brown yarn hair that matched the single vibrant difference between the t[1]win girls. The children were quite accustomed to the veracity of spring thunderstorms and didn't give the pounding rain or loud thunder a second thought.
Roy's fists were bone white, gripping the arms of his chair as he stared into the fire. The initial clap of thunder didn't bother him qu
