Blackberry Fields It Pours

As the center of the storm settled above them, the silence prevailed. Though it hardly posed an issue for the residents of the tree. However, there was an expectant air from the female as her eye drifted from the exterior to inward. She had anticipated that with the ease of the storm, her company would take his leave and return to his Thicket, or perhaps slip away just as quietly to forage before the storm began again.

But he did not move, her bi-colored eyes would observe. To the contrary, he made himself more comfortable in her presence, even going so far as to poise himself for rest. The female’s brows peaked with interest though no sound was shared, save for the rhythmic inhale of breath. Her eyes remained on his pelt, the dark strands of deep brown fading to black as her eyes delved further in. Wonderment enraptured her til her ears pulled her from the void of thought and to the present again amidst the rolling sounds of thunder. The storm was starting up again. No doubt the tail end would be as savage as its head, but she did not worry. All storms were meant to pass.

A tired eye once again passed over the idle form her company, and again she found her sights locked into his coat. Sighing softly to relax, she placed her head nearest to his paws while keeping her own tucked against her belly. Her posture turned as she slipped to her side, and like him began to drift to the growing patter of the coming rains.

{Fin}