Morningside Cuesta Was dreaming of shores that my ship would find

The cold was coming.  She could feel it in her core, the anxious press to get moving.  Her tail softly beat the deadened grasses behind her with an unusual air of unease, but it was the only indication that gave voice to the decisions weighing upon her.  Her pose as she lay was relaxed as usual, an interesting way to rest in the open for a lone wolf without a claim, but there was no one near as far as she could tell.  A brisk breeze whipped up and she sighed irritably.  More than one downside to resting with no cover.  She'd forgotten how damn cold the wind could get, and it was only going to get worse.

She'd weathered worse, but when the time came, she wasn't sure if it would be worth the hardship sticking around.  On southern shores the wind blew much sweeter through the winter months.  Maybe she should get going now, before the warmth was gone and the snows started.  Her nose wrinkled in distaste at the thought.  Rotten stuff, snow.  Pretty to look at, but that was the length of it.

Another wind kicked up and it wrinkled further, irritation and the biting chill forcing her to her feet.  She'd passed a rise on her way to this flatland that might offer a bit more break from the chill.  As she did so, a few fat drops fell to land between her ears, and her eyes shot skywards just as a light drizzle began to fall.  Perfect, she thought wryly, shaking her head and slowly starting off in the direction she'd come, raindrops gently dusting her coat as she went.