Black Snake spent the entire winter curled up in its cave, dormant.
It did not wake when the ice and snow melted, nor stir when wildflowers covered the mountains. In past years, it should have gone fishing in the River by now, but Black Snake was still asleep. This hibernation lasted longer than any before.
Mist churned inside the cave. Arcs of electricity occasionally sprang from its enormous body, their light flashing and vanishing, briefly illuminating Black Snake's outline and the countless water droplets suspended on the cave walls, like an endless river of stars in the night sky.
The flowing, dense mist suddenly paused, then gradually thinned. No more electric arcs darted about.
Black Snake had awakened, but its eyes remained closed and it did not move.
Sensing the warmth and cold outside the cave, it calculated the season. The time had not yet come. It would have to keep waiting patiently.
Outside, the wildflowers covering the mountains shed their last petals. Then the plants sprouted tender buds that slowly unfurled, their young leaves thin enough for light to shine through.
Everything grew, and the fresh scent of newborn vegetation floated in the air.
Another year of green mountains.
Black Snake was waiting for a thunderstorm. Having completed its transformation at five hundred years old, it urgently needed one to replenish its strength and awaken its vitality again.
It longed for that most familiar, most wonderful Rain Essence.
It could no longer remember how many times the cave entrance had brightened and darkened. Its long-dormant body suddenly stirred. Its eyelids slowly opened, its nictitating membranes withdrew, and its head turned slightly toward the entrance.
Its forked tongue flickered and trembled, detecting the change in the weather outside.
Heavy rain was coming.
It slid leisurely out of the cave. Outside,