Ravensblood Forest Fresh Start

Wet. 
Her den was wet. Her pelt was wet. The air was wet, for fuck's sake. It might be pretty if it didn't make her so goddamn miserable. 
She shook herself off, her pelt, usually perfectly preened, hanging limp and stringy over her frame. It left her grumbling and trudging through the ferns. 
She moved to where she had scratched out the garbage pit, performing her bodily functions and preparing to start the day. 
She was in mid-squat when she heard Donovan call for her. Sighing, she finished up, before making her way in his direction. 
"If it gets any wetter," She grumbled, her expression surly, "We'll be swimming around the territory."