Bramblepoint point to the hills

 
His attention was focused on the whipping of the wind and the quiet roll of the clouds overhead. So much so that the golden creature did not notice when he was no longer alone in the nest of nettles and thorns. It was not until the voice of the ornery female struck his ears that he felt himself jump slightly, fur rising along his shoulders and back. The southern dog turned his head to face her with bright eyes and a mildly surprised expression on his face. She spoke to him of the lands and how they had turned vile and unlivable. He listened to the omens that fell from her lips with piqued interest.
 
“I’ll be damned, miss, you sure as shit nearly scared the piss out of me,” he remarked with a soft twinkle in his eye. Another roll of thunder sounded overhead and he cast his head upwards once more to watch the thick dark clouds take hold of the land around them. He thought for a moment about her comment on the lightning that cracked overhead. It was ominous, yes, and he would not have shamed her for thinking it to be a sign from beyond that they were doomed. Sawyer was, however, something of a blind optimist.
 
“You could be right about that, missus. But where I come from, lightning brings rain,” he spoke to her with a laugh on his words. As if on cue, the water fell from above them in light sprinkles, spattering against the gold of his coat in perfectly timed drops. “And rain brings life back to the land.” Another roll of thunder sounded – this time much closer to their location – and Sawyer looked to his company with a tired smile.