By Π¨Π΅ΡΠ΅Ρ ΠΠ»Π΅ΠΊΡ
Π Π½Π°ΡΠ΅ΠΌ ΠΌΠΈΡΠ΅, Π³Π΄Π΅ Π·Π΅ΠΌΠ»Ρ Π»ΠΈΡΡ ΠΌΠΈΡΠ°ΠΆ, Π° ΠΆΠΈΠ·Π½Ρ Π²ΠΈΡΠΈΡ Π½Π° ΡΠΎΠ½ΠΊΠΎΠΉ Π½ΠΈΡΠΈ Π½Π΅Π±Π΅ΡΠ½ΠΎΠΉ Π²Π»Π°Π³ΠΈ, ΠΈΠ΄Π΅Ρ Π±Π΅Π·ΠΆΠ°Π»ΠΎΡΡΠ½Π°Ρ ΠΎΡ ΠΎΡΠ° Π½Π° ΠΎΠ±Π»Π°ΠΊΠ°. ΠΡΠ΅ΡΠ»Π΅Π΄ΠΎΠ²Π°ΡΡ ΠΈΡ , Π»ΠΎΠ²ΠΈΡΡ ΠΈ Π²ΡΠΆΠΈΠΌΠ°ΡΡ β Π΅Π΄ΠΈΠ½ΡΡΠ²Π΅Π½Π½ΡΠΉ ΡΠΏΠΎΡΠΎΠ± ΠΏΠΎΠ»ΡΡΠΈΡΡ Π΄ΡΠ°Π³ΠΎΡΠ΅Π½Π½ΡΡ Π²ΠΎΠ΄Ρ, ΠΈΡΡΠΎΡΠ½ΠΈΠΊ ΠΆΠΈΠ·Π½ΠΈ Π² ΡΡΠΎΠΌ Π·Π°Π²ΠΎΡΠ°ΠΆΠΈΠ²Π°ΡΡΠ΅ΠΌ, ΠΏΠ°ΡΡΡΠ΅ΠΌ Π½Π°Π΄ Π±Π΅Π·Π΄Π½ΠΎΠΉ ΠΌΠΈΡΠ΅. Π― ΠΌΠ΅ΡΡΠ°Π» ΡΡΠ°ΡΡ ΠΡ ΠΎΡΠ½ΠΈΠΊΠΎΠΌ Π·Π° ΠΠ±Π»Π°ΠΊΠ°ΠΌΠΈ, Π±Π΅ΡΡΡΡΠ°ΡΠ½ΡΠΌ ΠΏΡΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΡΡΠ²Π΅Π½Π½ΠΈΠΊΠΎΠΌ, ΠΏΡΠΎΠΊΠ»Π°Π΄ΡΠ²Π°ΡΡΠΈΠΌ ΡΠ²ΠΎΠΉ ΠΏΡΡΡ ΡΠΊΠ²ΠΎΠ·Ρ Π½Π΅Π±Π΅ΡΠ½ΡΠ΅ ΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅Π½ΠΈΡ, Π΄ΠΎΡΡΠ°Π²Π»ΡΡΡΠΈΠΌ Π²ΠΎΠ΄Ρ Π½Π° ΡΠ°ΠΌΡΠ΅ ΠΎΡΠ΄Π°Π»Π΅Π½Π½ΡΠ΅ ΠΈ ΠΎΠΏΠ°ΡΠ½ΡΠ΅ ΠΎΡΡΡΠΎΠ²Π°, ΠΎΠ±Π³ΠΎΠ½ΡΡ ΠΏΡΠΎΠΆΠΎΡΠ»ΠΈΠ²ΡΡ Π½Π΅Π±Π΅ΡΠ½ΡΡ Π°ΠΊΡΠ» ΠΈ ΠΊΠΎΠ²Π°ΡΠ½ΡΡ ΠΏΠΈΡΠ°ΡΠΎΠ², ΠΆΠ°ΠΆΠ΄ΡΡΠΈΡ ΠΎΠ±ΠΎΠ³Π°ΡΠΈΡΡΡΡ Π½Π° ΡΡΠΆΠΎΠΉ Π½ΡΠΆΠ΄Π΅.
Π ΠΎΠ΄ΠΈΡΠ΅Π»ΠΈ, ΠΊΠΎΠ½Π΅ΡΠ½ΠΎ ΠΆΠ΅, Π±ΡΠ»ΠΈ ΠΏΡΠΎΡΠΈΠ². ΠΠ½ΠΈ ΠΆΠ΅Π»Π°Π»ΠΈ ΠΌΠ½Π΅ ΡΠΏΠΎΠΊΠΎΠΉΠ½ΠΎΠΉ, ΠΏΡΠ΅Π΄ΡΠΊΠ°Π·ΡΠ΅ΠΌΠΎΠΉ ΠΆΠΈΠ·Π½ΠΈ. ΠΠΎ ΠΊΠ°ΠΊ ΠΌΠΎΠΆΠ½ΠΎ ΡΡΠΎΠ»ΠΈΡΡ ΠΆΠ°ΠΆΠ΄Ρ ΠΏΡΠΈΠΊΠ»ΡΡΠ΅Π½ΠΈΠΉ, ΠΊΠΎΠ³Π΄Π° ΠΏΠ΅ΡΠ΅Π΄ ΡΠΎΠ±ΠΎΠΉ ΠΏΡΠΎΡΡΠΈΡΠ°Π΅ΡΡΡ Π±Π΅ΡΠΊΠΎΠ½Π΅ΡΠ½ΠΎΠ΅ Π½Π΅Π±ΠΎ, ΠΏΠΎΠ»Π½ΠΎΠ΅ ΡΠ°ΠΉΠ½ ΠΈ ΠΎΠΏΠ°ΡΠ½ΠΎΡΡΠ΅ΠΉ? ΠΠ΅Π΄Ρ Π²ΡΠ΅, ΡΡΠΎ Π΄Π΅Π»Π°Π΅Ρ ΠΆΠΈΠ·Π½Ρ ΠΏΠΎ-Π½Π°ΡΡΠΎΡΡΠ΅ΠΌΡ ΠΈΠ½ΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΡΠ½ΠΎΠΉ, ΡΡΠ΅Π±ΡΠ΅Ρ ΡΠΌΠ΅Π»ΠΎΡΡΠΈ, Π±ΡΠ΄Ρ ΡΠΎ ΠΏΠΎΠ³ΠΎΠ½Ρ Π·Π° ΠΌΠ΅ΡΡΠΎΠΉ, ΠΏΠΎΠΈΠΌΠΊΠ° Π½Π΅ΡΠ»ΠΎΠ²ΠΈΠΌΡΡ ΠΎΠ±Π»Π°ΠΊΠΎΠ² ΠΈΠ»ΠΈ ΠΆΠ΅... ΠΠΆΠ΅Π½ΠΈΠ½.
ΠΠΆΠ΅Π½ΠΈΠ½ β Π΄Π΅Π²ΡΡΠΊΠ° Ρ Π΄Π²ΡΠΌΡ ΡΠΎΠ½ΠΊΠΈΠΌΠΈ ΡΡΠ°ΠΌΠ°ΠΌΠΈ Π½Π° Π»ΠΈΡΠ΅, Π½Π΅ΠΏΠΎΠΊΠΎΡΠ½Π°Ρ ΠΈ ΠΏΡΠ΅ΠΊΡΠ°ΡΠ½Π°Ρ, ΠΊΠ°ΠΊ ΡΠ°ΠΌ Π²Π΅ΡΠ΅Ρ. ΠΠ½Π° ΠΈΠ· ΡΠ΅ΠΌΡΠΈ Π»Π΅Π³Π΅Π½Π΄Π°ΡΠ½ΡΡ ΠΡ ΠΎΡΠ½ΠΈΠΊΠΎΠ² Π·Π° ΠΠ±Π»Π°ΠΊΠ°ΠΌΠΈ. Π Ρ, ΡΠ»ΠΎΠ²Π½ΠΎ ΠΎΠ³ΠΎΠ»ΠΎΠ΄Π°Π²ΡΠ°Ρ ΠΊΠΈΡΠΎΠ²Π°Ρ Π±Π»ΠΎΡ Π°, Π²ΡΠ΅ΠΏΠΈΠ»ΡΡ Π² Π½Π΅Ρ, Π² Π΅Ρ Π΄Π΅ΡΠ·ΠΊΠΈΠΉ Π΄ΡΡ ΠΈ Π½Π΅ΠΏΡΠ΅ΠΊΠ»ΠΎΠ½Π½ΡΡ ΡΠ΅ΡΠΈΠΌΠΎΡΡΡ. Π Π·Π½Π°Π΅ΡΠ΅ ΡΡΠΎ? ΠΠΈ ΡΠ΅ΠΊΡΠ½Π΄Ρ Π½Π΅ ΠΏΠΎΠΆΠ°Π»Π΅Π».
In our world, where land is but a distant mirage and life hangs precariously on the thin thread of celestial moisture, a relentless hunt for clouds unfolds. Chasing, capturing, and wringing them dry β this is the only way to obtain precious water, the lifeblood of this breathtaking world suspended above the abyss. I dreamed of becoming a Cloud Hunter, a fearless traveler charting a course through the celestial currents, delivering water to the most remote and dangerous islands, outpacing voracious sky sharks and cunning pirates who prey on the desperate.
My parents, of course, were against it. They yearned for a peaceful, predictable life for me. But how can one quench a thirst for adventure when faced with an endless sky brimming with mystery and peril? After all, everything that truly makes life interesting demands courage; be it chasing a dream, capturing elusive clouds, or...Jenin.
Jenin β a girl with two delicate scars on her face, defiant and beautiful as the wind itself. She hails from a family of legendary Cloud Hunters. And I, like a famished whale louse, clung to her, to her audacious spirit and unwavering determination. And you know what? I haven't regretted it for a single second.