Storm Watch Butte como la flor

feel. sand stung the winterborn's eyes, his nose, and his mouth when he dared to open it.

look. evenfall spots a lone figure in the distance, still against the whirlwind of sand and dust that is kicked up by the strong gusts. sol had begun to say goodnight for the evening, and the green-eyed wolf knows it is his cue to seek shelter. perhaps this stranger seeks the same.

smell. as he approaches, he shields his face against the storm as much as he can, his nostrils filled with sand and silt. he wishes to inhale her scent, to know more of her before he closes the distance, but it is impossible with the wind and debris.

taste. we should take cover! he suggests, sand filling his mouth as soon as it opens. the wolf gestures to a nearby overhang, sheltered on three sides and seemingly away from the storm. he does not wait for her response, but instead moves quickly to save himself from the torrent.