Ouroboros Spine Are there bandits at grandma's house?

He seated himself upon the rise. Wind whispered through his fur, coaxing through its layers like the long lost fingers of a distant lover. He shivered; the rustle of his coat demanding the involuntary motion as he shook the tingling sensation away. Even with the approaching promise of a storm, there was something wild about this wind. Electric. It was alive and breathing and filled with an energy that reminded him he was very much a part of this world.

Only the rush of the wind filled the space between their silence until she elected to speak once more. This time her words were focused and more thoughtful. She must have found some grain of truth within his opinion on the sky and what effects it would have upon the world she lived in. "Earthy and wet," he confirmed, agreeing with her. "Anything else?"