Rain had never met a woman like you before you arrived on his soil. Because of the nature of scarcity of food during the winters of their lands, the hunting, and the battling of enemies that Outworld women often did, most of the time, they were tan, lithe, with corded muscles. Built for survival under the harshest of conditions.

You were paler than anyone he had ever seen, with freckles that emerged in the sun. And you were curvy - a soft tummy, chest and thighs, rolls that squished a little when you moved. It was much different from what he was used to. But that wasn't to say he disliked it.

Rain had been taken with you from the moment he met you - you were intelligent and beautiful, and you often told him stories of the faraway city you'd lived in - Burbank, you called it. Grey and red brick. It sounded so different from the place he called home.

Now, the two of you were resting in his dwelling, the warmth of summer fading after sunset. He was idly massaging over your stomach, enjoying the softness of your skin. "...Are all women so soft where you come from?" He mused.