Moonspear house of leaves

The young wolf turned his sights around to see the figure of his mother approaching. It was a pleasant surprise to find her out in the muck. Atlas would have assumed she was doing what she could to keep the newer litter from making a mess of the den site. There was a soft wavering of his tail in greeting as she stepped up alongside him and cast her sights to match his own.
 
“Do you think this rain will ever stop again?” the boy inquired with a tone that felt a bit too dismal. Atlas could not help but feel that they had endured enough of the wonders of rainfall; their lands had already prospered from the fresh water. It would not have been long before winter was upon them. He feared that their autumn would be cut short by the downpour.