High above the earth, in a sky painted with sunlight and whispers of wind, lived a little cloud named Cappy. Cappy wasn't big or fluffy like the other clouds. He wasn't dark and rumbly like the storm clouds. He wasn't long and streaky like the fast clouds that raced across the sky.
Cappy was small. Round. And very, very soft.
He spent most of his days drifting quietly behind the other clouds, watching from a distance. While the big clouds boomed with thunder, flashed with lightning, or watered gardens with rain, Cappy simply floated… and dreamed.
"I wish I could do something important," Cappy whispered to himself one morning, gazing down at the patchwork fields below. "Something brave."
But whenever he said that out loud, the bigger clouds chuckled.
"You? You're barely the size of a pillow!" said Thunderbum, a grumpy gray storm cloud with lightning bolts for eyebrows.
"You don't have enough fluff to hold a single raindrop!" teased Wispy, the long wind-runner cloud.
