Arrow Lake we'll all be gone by the falling light

The clouds had passed from distant terrains and seemed to loom overhead menacingly with the dark grey promise of rain. The world had fallen into an eerie quiet, almost in reverence for the coming storm. Trench had spent the better portion of his morning watching the skies change color and tumble overhead. He had fluttered in and out of sleep but had found that the occasional touch of sunlight against his side was pleasant enough to rouse him after fifteen minutes or so.
 
Still very weak from the illness, the ink spot had not found the energy to return back into the den. The dirt bed that he had made for himself was fine. With a short yawn, Trench blinked away his latest nap from his eyes and turned them to the heavens. Two droplets fell down and landed against the pup’s dark nose. He blinked against it, but it did not bother him. Distant thunder sounded like a deep drum from several territories away. The young boy turned his head toward it and cupped his ears with interest.