A night in late Autumn. By a strange tree.

The rain beat down heavily, driving most people indoors where it was warm and welcoming. Cold and wet rarely draws people out it seems. Perhaps it's for this reason the lone figure approached the tree.

His coat was old and tattered. It was a raincoat in its youth, but now it was only going through the motions of being such. It was a coat, it was being worn in the rain. It hung loosely on the weak shoulders of its wearer. A broad-brimmed hat made a perfect match for the raincoat, though it did a better job of keeping its wearer dry. Rainwater frequently spilled off the side as the man slowly sloped towards the tree.

"I imagine you and I are the only ones who care for this weather," a soft, whispered voice drifted loosely from underneath the hat.

No answer was returned. Certainly the man was alone. "It will be time," the voice sounded again, "we need only wait."

Silence ensued, as the thin figure stood still, regarding the tree. The dark rainy skies would obscure him from view, though the occasional passerby was far more interested in getting from point A to point B than finding out what a dark figure standing near a tree in the dark of the night was doing.

"We are alike, in a way, my friend," the voice sounded again. "There is much to prepare for. Wait for me. I will return when the time is right."

Slowly he turned. His footsteps sounded with each step into the puddles on the ground. Steadily he became distant, and then at last, there was only the rain, and the tree.