Haunted Wood no one likes a beggar slightly overdressed

Rain. She had felt it- seen it many times on the coast. She had seen thunderstorms, lightning touching the waves and a loud rumbling sound following it. She had seen the dew on the grass of her berry forest, the water dripping down from the leaves above her head. She remembered the taste of berries, cold and wet because of an earlier storm. Her stained face had been dripping wet and she remembered the shivers running down her spine. She remembered seeing the water droplets fly around as she shook her drenched, white fur. She remembered bathing in the sun after a summer storm, raising her head to the sky and closing her eyes so the sun wouldn't make her go blind.

This rain was different. This rain didn't go hand in hand with the scenery of the coast. It didn't come with the familiar scent of the sea nor berries. It was just wet, annoying. This wasteland was annoying. She had come here to see wonders, not dead insects. She had come here to meet the one, to find a new home. She had come here because her heart had led her here, and here she'd stay- even if it was a wasteland. Going back was not an option, not anymore.

The rain had stopped though and only left a white waterwitch, drenched, wandering a wasteland that was now more muddy than anything. She barely noticed she had entered the woods, but nothing surprised her anymore. Everything looked the same without the green of grass and plants, of herbs and leaves. She sighed, letting her berry juice stained face hang, watching her muddy paws as they made contact with the earth and dead bodies of locusts. It could all be worse, she kept saying to herself in her head.

Another moment passed, though it felt like hours, and now there was a sound in the distance. It wasn't prey, and she couldn't say if it was a wolf or not, most scents washed away by the rain. Her pace quickened, eager to find out what was making this noises that sounded an awful lot like a song.