Phoenix Maplewood Half of what you think of me

Date & Setting: Mid-afternoon; darkened clouds and light drizzle. Backdated to around the 16th or 17th for timeline sakes.
Tagging: Either @Whitney or @Bliss?

Ah, the weather was not fond of Cynefrid nowadays. How could one enjoy the summer's sun when it was always smothered by gloomy clouds? The same clouds that soaked the earth and made everything damp and muddy — not a very pretty sight.

It had been a couple of weeks since finding Friede and the only other person she'd managed to come across was Calhoun, but no one else as of yet. Cyne was glad that the respected triad relative was alive and well, but it pained her to know that he'd been burned as well. Yes, it was to be expected from a literal forest fire with singed her own hip, but the doe couldn't help but feel terribly that she didn't arrive sooner to help him. And what of the rest? Ecspecially Célnes and the others; were they burned as well? Did they look worse? Freobrean, the young girl who followed suit of the same profession as she, briefly popped up into Cyne's mind and that restless, longing feeling to continue the search suddenly grew stronger.

There it was, a scent trail. Cynefrid couldn't figure out who the scent belonged to at first, but it was a start at least, so she followed after in. Light raindrops feel on the damsel's freshly soaked pelt and made it a bit difficult to track properly with all the water that dripped for her face. It also soaked the burn mark on Cyne's hip and caused the injury to irritate her even more — so much for attempting to dress it with hastily made paste...