he turned to see if she followed before he entered the copse. it was not a thick covering of foliage overhead, but the twisted branches would provide some semblance of shelter for the pair. as if wrought to life by his thoughts, thunder rumbled overhead, and he felt the first pelt of rain upon his muzzle. any tracks left by the little osprey would surely be washed away by the deluge, and he sighed at the futility of it all.
entering the tree-stand, lasher let his eyes alight with concern upon blue willow, knowing she did not fare well, though her strength would hide this from an undiscerning beast. we will look for her again after the storm clears, he whispered by way of encouragement, shifting himself on the piled stalks of grass and sand to make room for her body.