Sitting on a protruding rock off the side of the road was a small figure with a beige coat covering the entirety of their body. It was clasped tight. The continuous drumming of water droplets on trees and grass created a static tempo in the forest, and the figure bit into the half-eaten apple. Their fingers drummed on the rock, legs tapping against one another.
"Of all the bloody days it just had to rain today."
The howling winds played their melody in-between the trees. Like satyrs, thought the cloaked figure.
And so they kept waiting...