Barrow Fields staring in the eyes of my poor soul

✹☾❂

 

Suddenly, for Eleuthera, the drama with the saints had taken a swift backseat. Now her annoyance was with the rains. Eleuthera loved the rain, it was true, but only when there was sun and dryness to balance it out. At this point it had been days of rain upon days of rain, perpetual dark gray skies and the near constant din of water falling for miles and eventually coming to splat upon the ground. It was threatening to sour Eleuthera’s good nature — which was a part of the lilac shewolf that was not eager to expose to Kincaid. At least not so soon.

When the Rambler suggested they take a small sojourn, to create an interlude in the annoyance and anxiety that was so common in the rainy willows these days, Eleuthera was almost out the door by the time he finished his sentence. 

Eleuthera did desire change, and not only of scenery and mood. Eleuthera had spent far too much time showing Kincaid the things which had borne her — but Kincaid was an even better storyteller than she, with more road under his belt. Eleuthera desired, more than most things, to view the world from his ruddy, roan point of view. She allowed him to lead, and followed him like a love-lorn pup.

The rain didn’t stop as they became nearer to the coast. In fact, it shifted and came down even harder, now that they were in the fields without a canopy of trees to shield them somewhat. There was still a doming, looming cloud form that hovered close to the earth, releasing its rolling thunder and deluge upon them. Eleuthera squinted her lavender eyes into slits, to avoid water from splashing or dripping into them. It looked, from what she could see in the low-light, to be an alien landscape though she had been here many, many times. 

“I feel it," she agreed with the man, feeling the reverberation of the thunder in her twiggy, sodden legs. “I see it. I smell it," at this point, Eleuthera had cracked a wide smile because when the constant rain was infused with a sense of company and adventure, it wasn’t entirely dismal. She smacked her lips. “I taste it." Then, she took another step into the field, as if to face nature’s fury itself. “It looks like a storm cloud, but hugging the earth." she commented, throwing her words over her should to Kincaid upon a strong gust of wind.  “...and coming right for us!" she barked into the rain, lashing her tail behind her, slinging water in every direction.