Moonspear technicolor

The rain and the heat were relentless and oft not in tandem—where one would relent, even slightly, the other would build in. If they were not suffocating by way of sheer humidity beneath an unwavering sun, they were threatened to be swept away in immediate flooding where waters rose just as quickly as they receded. Such was the way of summers he had once known, but they were not as common here, and the complacency had given way to annoyance.

He was drenched, though hardly the first time in as many days.

A hunt forfeit in the lowlands, he was shepherded to higher grounds once more with a disheartened way about him, though his face betrayed his wallowing wandering; a grim annoyance had set itself in stone there as the water chiseled tracks along every jut and curve of sinew and bone. His feet were muddied by the time he had hit plateaued ground, by then his mind set in seeking @Hydra. The rain did little to change their routine—he knew she would be looking after the children.