Stormlights

She’d headed out on patrol before night’s fall, and now a soaking wet autumn night downpour joined her for her shift. She paid it no mind—she was reasonably well-covered by her armor and cloak beneath it, though it required more careful scanning to see around the stiffened edge of her hood, which the wind was pretty determined to yank off her head back to her shoulders.

Soaking tendrils of hair buffeted in limp strings from her tail, but she was unphased. She liked storms. Blizzards better, but thunderstorms and whipping rain and wind were just as pleasant. The west could use the rain to give the grasses and other plant life a boost before winter settled in.

She paused and squinted through the rain at a moment of movement. She had a solo shift, though Loshir stalked through the drencher on the ground on the inside edge of the wall, not visible to any outsider that happened to look in from outside the wall on the ground.

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think