Northstar Vale grains

Teeth chattering, Meadow set herself to work. Rain had always been heavy in her heart—stirring a certain chill to her bones that came from more than being wet and miserable. No, a suppressed memory of sorts—perhaps from after the fire? Discomfort always blanketed her in the moments and so she found herself never pressing further, allowing the thinly veiled memory to be tucked away safely once more, leaving her in the comfort of the dark. 

The rain had soaked her over time. Droplets ran to her eyes, blurring her vision, but her gaze still fell upon the lovely figure of Tamar, out and about despite the unfavorable weather. Out puddle jumping without the kids?