dreary

The world was made just that bit brighter at the sound of a familiar, though rare, voice cutting through the dreary rain. "Tyrfing!" she said with pleasure. The warrior has been distant for some time - she hadn't been sure what had happened to the male to make him so quiet and withdrawn, but she'd given him his space to let him process whatever it was in his own way. Seeing him out and about now might mean that whatever it was had been resolved, so she was glad for him. She grimaced faintly at his question though. "Not... Anything particular," she said hesitantly. "Just moping about soggily I suppose. It's just so grey and dreary that I can't seem to shake feeling colorless myself." Of course she all but was colorless anyway, except her eyes, but it made the metaphor all the more appropriate, maybe.