that's what you're doin'

Any chance we could make this an Outrider thread for me? Also, no need to match the length.

Thunder. Again thunder. Why? Why did there have to be another thunderstorm? And so soon after the last one? Red sighed, and shifted restlessly. Her Coyote blood — which she now called her Outrider blood — called for movement. Though this time it probably had nothing to do with exploring and everything to do with the fact that she hated thunder and the accompanying noise. Uncomfortably, she remembered the last thunderstorm she’d had to deal with, and how that had turned out. She had ended up having to run away from another wolf who impeded on her hiding spot under some roots of a giant oak tree in the Hearwood, which had forced her back out into the storm. Luckily, she had found a temporary den — an abandoned hole in the side of a hill, made by some small, burrowing creature. She had spent ten minutes making it big enough for her to squeeze into, and it had been extremely uncomfortable, but she had survived. Obviously.

Now she was stuck dealing with more noise like cannons going off above her head, echoing all across the mountains that were now her home. It got so bad she just had to get away. She had to find somewhere to shove her head to lessen the noise. Keeping her ears flat in order to help block out the thunder, and hunching low to the ground to keep the rain off (which really didn’t keep the rain off at all, but don’t tell Red that), she picked a direction and quickly made her way down the mountain towards an unknown location.

Everything was fine and dandy until the rain began to sting her eyes. She had been moving steadily towards Arrow Falls, though she didn’t know that, for quite some time. And the farther she moved, the more agitated she became. She was going into herself to escape the noise and the pouring rain. Had she been human, and known of such things, she might have realized that she had, in fact, a pathological fear of thunderstorms. There was absolutely no way anyone could ever talk her out of her fear — especially because she didn’t even realize she was afraid. She felt more of an acute irritation than anything, but really, it was fear. Fear, horrible and nasty, and roaring its mighty head at her, bellowing so loudly into her brain that she could no longer think straight and suddenly went tumbling down the rocky face of the Falls, trying desperately to get her balance. Finally, all four paws were on solid ground again, only for their owner to find herself flipped onto her side and sliding down the rest of the way, all the way to Lower Arrow Lake.

By the time she stopped moving for good, she was battered and bruised and confused. And she did not notice at all the little wolf nearby, who seemed to be clearly enjoying the thunderstorm. All she knew was that she hurt. And that all around her, the sky lit up with lightning and the thunder boomed and she whined pitifully at nothing and no one and hid her face beneath her paws, wishing it all to stop.