Spring Feet

Spring was causing plants and storms to- well- spring up. It wasn't too bad, but Sparrow had wandered out a bit when one of these downpours started. The small girl clicked her tongue. She should have kept her eyes on the skies a bit more. Her tiny form fit well under some taller brush which would protect her for a little. As long as the storm didn't last too long, she could stay mostly dry.

It didn't seem to want to stop. Soon, the water began to trickle down the foliage and onto Sparrow's face. She supposed her cover was blown, so she stepped out and gave her pelt a good shake. It wasn't freezing out, so as long as she was able to dry her coat some before night fall, she should be good. Sparrow figured she should try to head back to her den to do just that.