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Clyde was a cloud, but he was a cloud with a secret: he was afraid of heights. While all the other clouds drifted high in the sky, fluffy and carefree, Clyde stayed low to the ground. He was a small, puffy cloud who spent his days hovering just above the treetops, trembling a little whenever a strong gust of wind tried to push him higher.

The other clouds would call down to him, "Come on, Clyde! The view is incredible up here! You can see the whole valley!" But Clyde would just wobble a bit and stay put. He imagined what it would be like to fall from such a great height. He didn't want to become a puddle on the ground.

One afternoon, a spirited wind spirit named Gusty saw Clyde hovering nervously. Gusty loved to play and dance and swoop, and couldn't understand why the little cloud was so sad.

"What's the matter, Clyde? Why do you live so low?" Gusty asked, swirling gently around him.

"I'm scared of falling," Clyde admitted, his voice a quiet whisper of mist.

Gusty laughed, a soft, whistling sound. "Oh, Clyde! You're a cloud! You can't fall. You're made of water vapor and hope! You float! If you get too heavy, you'll just gently sprinkle some rain down. You won't fall down like a rock!"

Clyde had never thought of it that way. The other clouds had never explained. Gusty took a deep breath and gave a gentle, reassuring push. Clyde rose higher, slowly at first, but then with more confidence. He was still a little wobbly, but he wasn't afraid. He looked down and gasped. The view really was spectacular! He could see tiny houses, a winding river, and a patchwork of green and brown fields.

Gusty spun around him, delighted. "See? Nothing to be afraid of!"

Clyde smiled, a little shimmer of light. He felt a happy, heavy feeling build up inside him. He felt like he wanted to share the view. He let go of a few drops of water and watched them fall like tiny, glistening teardrops. He wasn't falling, he was giving a gift. He was a rain cloud, and the flowers on the ground were going to be very happy.