Moonspear could it be, love?

Rain? In the midst of her patrol the slight downpour of drizzle started to pour onto her head, and looking up was the grayness of the clouds, covering the hot sun. She ought to be grateful for the coverage, but at the same time was a bit surprised upon it. The rainy season was nearly gone she thought, but she supposed it would disappear in due time.

For now, Desdemona found coverage under a large rock near the bottom of the mountain. She lay underneath, paws neatly folded while patiently waiting it out. It seemed light, so she thought in an hour or so the rain would stop.