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) 1 : We Can't Make Any Friends
“I’m going to go find some best friends!” Dub announced one sunny morning.
Dub’s purple mist began to glow. “They told me I was too bright and too chunky!” The Cirrus clouds pulled away
Dub felt very lonely. He drifted down toward the mountains, thinking, Maybe I’m just not meant to have friends.
“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.” chunky
Once there was a little cloud named Dub. While most clouds in the sky liked to bunch together into big, fluffy blankets, Dub was a bit different—he was a bright, neon-purple mist.
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
“I’m going to go find some best friends!” Dub announced one sunny morning.
Dub’s purple mist began to glow. “They told me I was too bright and too chunky!”
Dub felt very lonely. He drifted down toward the mountains, thinking, Maybe I’m just not meant to have friends.
“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.”
Once there was a little cloud named Dub. While most clouds in the sky liked to bunch together into big, fluffy blankets, Dub was a bit different—he was a bright, neon-purple mist.
