Suddenly, he heard a high-pitched whistle. He looked down and saw a strange, orange-tinted fog rolling out of a cave.

“Hey!” the orange fog yelled. “I’m Zip. I’ve been hiding in this cave because the other fogs think I’m too loud and too orange.”

Dub sighed a little puff of rain and drifted toward the high, wispy Cirrus clouds. They looked like delicate white feathers. “Hello! Want to play tag?”

The big clouds looked at him and shuddered. “Oh dear, no,” they huffed. “You’re far too bright. You’ll ruin our aesthetic for the landscape painters below. We can’t be friends.”

The Cirrus clouds pulled away. “We are very high-fashion and very thin,” they sniffed. “You are much too... chunky. We can’t be friends.”

Zip laughed, a sound like a bubbling brook. “Well, I think purple and orange look great together. Want to go make a sunset?”

Dub beamed. For the first time, he didn't feel like a misfit. They didn't need to fit in with the white clouds; they just needed to find each other. Together, they swirled into the evening sky, creating the most spectacular, weird, and colorful sunset the world had ever seen. Should we continue Dub’s adventure in , or

Dub’s purple mist began to glow. “They told me I was too bright and too chunky!”