Furry Librarian

It’s raining and I can feel the tiny spots of water gathering on my fur, weighting it down.

The canopy protects me from the worst of the rain, but I still receive a few drops on my muzzle.

I call my kits out of the den. It hasn’t rained in moons, and the freshness the weather brings is entirely welcome to us whose fur doesn’t forgive during hot-and-dry moons.

The forest is finally breathing again, the leaves and grass long dried by the sun finally softening. They no longer crisp under my every step.

My ears perk up, taking in the surrounding noises.

I was not the only one who thought about going out to take in the colder weather, to find some puddles of rainwater. All around us, I can hear the tap tap sound of tiny paws on the forest floor.

It has been long since I have last heard that sound during the day. During hot-and-dry moons, we can only hunt at night. The heat is unbearable when the sun is up, and no prey is senseless enough to come out then, either.

If I weren’t enjoying that respite in our hot routine, I might be tempted to try and catch some preys for my kits and I.

But the rain feels so good on my fur, and it has been so long since I have been able to relax like this, so I prefer to enjoy it while it lasts.

Next to me, my kits imitate me, closing their eyes and raising their heads to the sky to feel the water on their muzzles. One even tried to catch a few drops in their mouth, and it makes me yelp in amusement as my tail softly twitches where it rests on the damp ground.

It is in those moments that I do not regret staying to live in the forest I was born in, instead of following the steps of my litter mates.

I am where I am supposed to be.

chapter 5 approaching and im busy af

here a kralseiling as a treat

based on this meme saodinisao