Cerulean Cape transcendentalism

I'm fine, the wanderer confirmed, although took a second afterwards to test his weight on his limbs, glance across his body, fluff his tail - checking himself out just in case. It hadn't been much of a blow. There was a moment where Mink was stuck in a thoughtful bubble while he flexed and pranced about, but that soon ended, and he opened his mouth as if to ask something - or merely carry the conversation despite being so terribly introverted - and there was a rumble out to sea.

His ears pivoted, and he was distracted momentarily by the distant sound. Sounds like its getting bad out there, but the storm (if that was a storm, and not merely his grandmother's spirit trying to tear the gods a new hole in the afterlife) was still hours away. They would be safe for some time still, lest the winds changed. Mink quietly let his attention drift up to the sky and linger there, where he tried to spy upon the bits of gray and blue beyond the trees.