Duskfire Glacier Who does your honor sleep with at night

Time - 3:30 pm on Sunday | Weather - Moderate rain | Notes; Backdated one day for the rain!

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Rain pummeled down with a vengeance, thunder and lightning clashing together with a ferocious roar, resonating vibrantly inside his deep chest. Rye endured the storm without hesitance, his fur intertwined with the fat droplets of water that fell from the sky in great abundance; still he didn't move, didn't flinch. Each flash of lightning illuminated the disarray around him, colorful sundered flower pedals floated in the thin river rushing beside his feet and haunches. Water wicked away the dirt that clung to his fur and thoroughly cleansed Tzilas scent off his frame. Rye was enraptured by the feeling of the rain dripping from his muzzle and fur, his head tilted up with eyes closed to let the water reach his lids. 

It was a welcome distraction from the storm brewing inside his skull, one that rivaled the exteriors. It felt like only days ago he was sure fatherhood was years away from catching him, he thought that was what he wanted, freedom; but Rye found himself longing for the opposite. Why? He wasn't certain, maybe it was mother nature summoning him to the wonders of parenthood or possibly it was hidden yearnings that were unearthed in light of his fling with Tzila? No matter the answer, Rye was left with a desire that wouldn't come to fruition. Wintersbanes scent was coated on the dark females fur first, Rye knew enough about the adult thing to know he was not to be the little ones father. To say he was bitter would have been an overstatement, Rye wasn't angry at the loss in opportunity; nor was he sad. Only wistful. 

The hotah lifted his hind quarters and walked out of the meadow without any regard to the remaining intact flowers, absentmindedly crushing them with each step. His aim was to return to his dry and dark den where he could recoup from the drenching.