weather changes moods
open; exploring
It was pouring rain, but it didn't seem to affect his mood that much. His companions, on the other hand, were furious. They'd followed him out on a walk, as per usual, and now they were sodden and cold. Butcher was chittering quietly, tugging out strands of fur from his perch upon the lanky boy's shoulders to show his displeasure. The four horned ram was bleating his displeasure as he led his canine companion towards the cavern that he could see in the distance, wool soaked almost down to his skin with the rain already. Then there was the wolf, who was almost entirely unbothered. Light pelage soaked into clumps of grey and brown against slate blue, and his sightless eyes were bright and his expression was cheery. Oversized ears perked up to listen to the sounds of the heavy rain drumming against the earth all around him, nostrils flaring to absorb the pleasant aroma of petrichor. As the group drew closer to the cavern, the musty smell grew strong enough that the boy no longer needed the guidance of his companion bumping against his legs every now and then. He simply followed the smell of wet stone and stagnant air until the deluge stopped pelting against his slender back. Butcher shook out his feathers, and the spray against the back of his ears made the boy shake his head lightly. He was fine to let himself drip dry, the ground underfoot was slick with rain and old dampness already- he would slip and eat shit regardless of his own sogginess. As his senses acclimated to the new environment, the ringing in his ears began to subside until he picked up the sounds of his companions breathing. The steady drip of mineral infused water from overhead stalagmites. Outside the rain still fell in sheets. Well, there was no reason to put an end to their walk. No, it would simply continue through the caves. He picked up his paws and started walking, unbothered by the loss of the young ram as he stopped near the entrance to tend to his sodden wool. Butcher could be his eyes just as easily, or warn him of danger if need be. A quiet hum carried from his throat, echoing from the close walls of the cavern even at such a low volume. It was tuneless, constantly shifting notes and patterns as he lost interest in one rhythm after another. The way it bounced off the walls was just as useful as it was entertaining, helping paint a picture of the caves as they shifted and changed around him. It was only as the soggy shrike on his back started to incessantly tug on his fur that he noticed that he could hear other claws clicking against the stone of the cave floor, and these definitely weren't an echo of his own. He let the absentminded hum trail off into silence, and listened with a cocked ear to the footfalls. Were they getting closer? "" |