Fairspell Meadow of little wings of white-flamed butterflies in my brain

It wasn't long before she was soaked, soaked, and missing the trees she so fervently cursed. Once or twice, she glanced back, but then her gaze lighted on Sobek. She couldn't look indecisive or weak. She had to be strong for her remaining children; this was a decision on which she had to stay firm. How else was she to hold this pack together in the face of adversity?

There was a fairly sizable evergreen bush nearby, and Maegi made a beeline for it, flicking her tail for the twins to follow. Once tucked slightly beneath its boughs (it was not even comparable to the shelter a tree provided) it at least blocked the worst of the wind and rain. She hunkered down, the ball of ice that had settled in her stomach upon finding Anansi dead growing larger with each breath.

When it clears up, we can explore a bit more, she said to whoever had joined her beneath the greenery—or perhaps no one at all. It wouldn't be the first time she'd talked to herself. Find a place to keep out of the rain and snow. We'll need that this winter.