I love the smell of rain. The way it makes the wolf come alive just a little more, the way it rises, deep and rich, from the earth.
I wish it would rain more. That the clear skies would give way to clouds the colour of the pelt I donβt have, but yearn for all the same.
The petrichor, the earthen scent that comes after the rain, is just as nice, just as grounding. But the wolf positively sings in the rain.