Wet Wolf Paws

Álarr grumbled to himself as the rain started up again, falling harder this time. As luck would have it there was another pack next to Valhalla so they wouldn't be able to shelter here. Perhaps they'd have better luck at the ravine. Álarr ducked his head particularly low as he moved through the low trees, trying not to get his horns snagged in the branches above. That was all he needed, to get stuck. He still had some residual embarrassment from getting tangled in thorns with Pesto years back. He felt a slight stab at his heart at the thought of Pesto. He still hadn't been able to pin her down, to just ask if she wanted to hang out or something. He was starting to wonder if their friendship had simply faded away and no longer existed.