Jade Fern Grove it rises with the fall.

Potema regarded the wolf with curiosity, her single eye noticing something in his own that was familiar.

Recognition. The voice said. The look quickly went away before a smile tugged on his lips. He thought you were someone else.

Potema was slightly confused about what he said. Choosing whether or not to hide? Why wouldn't you? Her mother hid from the rain any chance she got; it ruined her marks, and it was a pain to repaint them. Potema had developed the same habit, since she drew crude marks of her own on her fur - made of mud and clay instead of the dyes her mother used - but marks that she was proud of the same. And besides, most creatures sheltered when a rainstorm hit, so why didn't he? "Do you like being in the rain?"