Kassandra allowed herself a moment of surprise. Not at the storm itself but the fact that she hadn't felt it coming. London rain was icy - she could always feel the temperature drop before the first drops hit. This, though, had sprung from nothing. Her legs were already moving before the purple haired girl prompted her. But it wasn't until she was halfway down the street, dodging massive and vengeful chunks of the sky, that she realized she was still holding the paintbrush. 

Flecks of white colored her hair, face and fingertips, dotting her dark skin like bizarre constellations. All the while, ice screamed and shattered around them. One came so close she felt the cold on her face. Unthinking, she raised her arm to shield the only person shorter than she was. 

And then everything was sharp and white- the last thing held in her mind was a desperate plea that would never be heard on this Earth.

"Mummy... help."