
High above the world, where the air tastes like peppermint and starlight, sits the cozy classroom of Nimbus Peak.

Here, the young Cloud-Sprites gather each evening to learn the ancient art of weaving weather from nothing but soft sighs and stray beams of moonlight.

Pipkin, a small sprite with glowing, amber-colored wings, sat at his spinning wheel, carefully winding threads of silver mist onto a spool.
The room hummed with the gentle whirring of wooden wheels and the soft, rhythmic patter of clouds being shaped. Pipkin watched the other students working on their secret final projects, his heart fluttering with curiosity about what they were making to earn their graduation ribbons.









