The thunder's deep breath settles into your bones like a cathedral's hush. Each raindrop finds a rhythm against your scattered thoughts, drawing them into a slow, patient dance. Beneath it all, the low growl of ancient magic cradles you in warmth, as if the storm itself is whispering that it's safe to let go. You sink deeper into unwinding, where even the sky's voice feels like a lullaby. This is the moment between storm and peace, where Fiji's storms don't rage—they sing you to calmer waters.