The wind, weak as it was, carried nothing that day. Nothing save for the heavy, moist feeling of potential impending rain, along with the faint musk of petrichor; Citlali was alone. It was a blessing as much as it was a curse to be so alone—devoid of camaraderie, yet kept tranquil with her solitude.

Her pale nose continued to gingerly nudge up against the turf, her stance diligent, lowered close to the ground. The young girl could swear that she felt a drop of rain. The rain was tolerable—no, enjoyable, even—when she was in a shelter. Yet... out here, she would simply get soaked to the bone. There was no quiet pitter-patter to lull her to sleep, nor the soothing mist which wafted into her den back before she'd awakened here.

Softly, Citlali sighed. Why... How could this happen to her? Another droplet fell upon her frail body, seeping through the silken strands of silvery fur and soaking onto her skin. There was nothing she could do. Citi lowered her head and sped up her gait, continuing her search.