Willowstorm

Eligos wasn't particularly pleased to be wet, his fur plastered against his slender form with a sullen glow against the blackness, but he had grown up in a land where the winter was essentially one long chilly rain so there was a strange sort of nostalgia in the fall rain. Still, he was glad enough to see the willows whose overhanging boughs would provide at least a modicum of relief from the rain despite their denuded foliage. He wasn't as pleased about the sight of someone already occupying the area, but beggers couldn't be choosers. He crossed the remaining yards, pausing to shake off as much of the water he could before stepping up under the semi sheltering branches, eying the cloaked figure as he did.