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.
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.” (Dub) 1 : We Can't Make Any Friends
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?”
Dub’s purple mist began to glow. “They told me I was too bright and too chunky!” Once there was a little cloud named Dub
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.”
Zip laughed, a sound like a bubbling brook. “Well, I think purple and orange look great together. Want to go make a sunset?” He drifted down toward the mountains, thinking, Maybe
“I’m going to go find some best friends!” Dub announced one sunny morning.