Dorothy began to pedal again, turning back to glance at the raging tornado behind her. Her red bicycle takes a gentle turn, as she casually avoids one of the screaming winged monkeys that is caught in the strong wind, missing her face by merely an inch (or two).
The tornado, that for some reason appears to possess a rather lovely shade of lilac and ash; continues to lash the earth - an unusual, arguably perfect combination of raging anger and delicate beauty.
"My daughter is in there somewhere," she says to herself; As a cheeky grin spreads across her face.
Toto is currently in midair, not getting sucked into the tornado thanks only to the tree that the other end of his leash has been attached to. He is quite annoyed that his black fur is getting all messed up by the strong wind.
"You are going to watch over Dora," his mistress said. "If you lose her, you're sleeping outdoors." She promised that she would return with a bone, but he was beginning to wonder if it would be worth it.
Little Dora is barely able to walk, but neither does she really need to. Tied firmly to the same tree as Toto, she screams with delight as she clutches tightly onto her kite that flaps wildly in the wind.