Alphinaud moved past the field of fire, Fireweed Rise, to find the flowers make room for water and willows. The subtle change in the landscape was stunning, almost breathtaking if he didn’t smell the same scents more regularly. The artic one halted in his steps, thunder growling above his head. The signs were clear, territory ahead. He shook his head and went further on his search for shelter. But careful, spring had been just around the corner and he didn’t want his throat ripped apart the second day of his adventuring.
It was only mere minutes later that the sky let rain fall as if it was mourning a lost son. Thick fat drops of rain had him soaked a few more minutes later. Shelter seemed still a bit far away but with a coat already heavy from the soaked water and his ears drooping down to keep the rain out, Phin cared little for shelter. Instead he was biting towards the water drops, shaking his pelt to make more rain. Since he was already wet to the bone, better make something good out of it.