Emberwood apocalypse always chooses the worst time to come.

They sit in silence for some time, him on one end of the outcrop and her on the other.  He is fine with this.  From his position he can tell that she is compact and muscular, he can see it in the way her muscle moves when she repositions herself.  He can smell that she smells like other wolves.

   
Do you hail from here?  His gravely voice breaks between them, but his eyes are trained on the rainfall.