In this town, don't we love it now?
She'd felt it again last night.
Rajani stared out into the rain. It always seemed to be raining lately, particularly when she wanted to be outside. But the fire in the cave mouth was warm, and so she was content to taste the wood-smoke and wait for drier weather. It wasn't as if being otherwise would do her any good in any case: it was either this or pacing about and growling at the curtains of rain, and that she would not sink to.
There was something magnetic about the fire itself, too. Not just the usual perverse, kippish longing to stick a paw in it just to see what would happen, either - something deeper was drawing her to the flames, she felt sure. Sometimes there was heat behind her eyes, in her paws and the blazes of colour on her cheeks. Sometimes she felt like she was already in the fire, watching herself watching the crackling wood.
And then there were those dreams, weren't there?
She hadn't told Mother about those yet.
Resting her head on her paws, Rajani sighed quietly and tried to look merely pensive instead of troubled. There was, after all, no sense in worrying Mother.
