a rainstorm had flushed the girl into the open from where she had taken shelter in some silver-shiver stand of birch. the tall boles did nothing to protect mona from the downpour, and with a sigh she unfurled her dripping crimson self and braced her small paws, casting off what droplets she could before moving east through the stone.
as the skies grew pale with dawnrose glowing, mona found herself in the deeper redstone that marked one perimeter of sunspire. and while the druid-child was damp, largely miserable, and lonely, mona found elation in her heart all the same, her murkwater eyes rising to take in the high walls as she paced through.