Days Move Slowly [Arwen]

Natha took shelter from the rain under the great oak trees of the southern continent.  Her trip down to this territory had proved fruitless and so she was on her way back north for more familiar territory and the regions she hoped to one day claim as her own.  The rain was gentle but Natha hoped it would lift soon.  She much preferred the snow that would cling lightly to her coat instead of the rain that would quickly soak her to the bone.  Autumn was settling on Auster and the temperatures were dropping.  Leaping onto a low branch of one of the nearby oak trees she stretched herself lengthwise along it.  Shaking out her coat she bent her head to lick at her forelegs, cleaning off the rain and picking out debris.