Bad Weather, Good Company

As the rain poured down, he tried to remember the last time he'd been this soaked to the bone. It had to be when he'd gone swimming, but that had been a while ago, a long while. Looking over her frame he could tell she was soaked too, how long had she been out in this storm? More importantly, why was she out in this storm? He knew he would have to wait for that answer, as he'd already asked the question and wasn't about to repeat himself. Her response then came, as amusing and casual as he'd expected it to be. Typical Ashtoreth. A smirk played across his lips. "Well then by all means let's continue walking so you can admire some more." Even he couldn't keep a straight face during the length of that joke. He let out a rolling chuckle as he pivoted so that he was beside her, parallel to the way she stood. The closest place he knew was his den, but was that too personal of a place to take her? He figured - in these circumstances - that it was not. Not bothering to think any more on the issue, he pressed himself onward, leading her toward his den. It was very near the central circuit where all of Valhalla slept - or most of them, at least. However, it was off to the side and very difficult to see - which was most of the reason why he liked it.

As they approached the circuit, he peered in all directions, noting that no other wolves were out in the rain. Good, no one would see where his den was. The man wasn't exactly paranoid - he was more particular about who knew where he lived, breathed, and slept. To the right of the circuit, the far right, there was a pile of three boulders that were moss-covered. Two were the base, and the third rested atop the two forming a slightly off-kilter pyramid. He marched toward the three, and paused before entering. "We can stay in my den until it breaks, or until you get sick of me.. whichever comes first." He winked and grinned before slipping through the gap in the center of the pyramid, coming to rest in a surprisingly spacious den. It was easily large enough for three and a half fully grown wolves, or two and a litter of pups - not that he was expecting that for a while. He went to the very back and turned around, resting onto his stomach and peering at the gap waiting on her to enter. "Welcome to my humble abode," he would utter over the chorus of the pounding rain.

"speeeeech"