The Storm With No Name

Corbie had been away from home hunting when the storm hit. The temperature had dropped rapidly - her only warning before the dreary day had turned dangerous - and she had barely made the shelter of an earthen overhang before the skies opened up. She could see the fjord's water far below her surging alarmingly, but she was far enough from the water that she was more than likely safe from any level of flooding. The wind was blowing insanely hard, driving hail before it mixed with rain so heavy she couldn't see in more than a foot in front of the overhang. Luckily, the wind was blowing to hit the back of the hill, so she was sheltered on three sides. Though it was just past noon the were so thick and dark that it almost seemed like night. She suspected she was going to be there for a while, and she hoped that Tam would be all right getting the sheep to shelter with just Ayer's help. The kinkajou wasn't exactly built for shepherding. Sighing in frustration, she picked up some stones that had fallen from the side of the bank and began making increasingly elaborate patterns with them to distract herself.