The smell of his own blood was sharp against the chill in the air, but he ignored it, the metal tang. He was vaguely worried another predator would smell the crimson liquid and attack, though Shibe pushed the thoughts from his head as a sharp, echoing crack ripped through the sky, a flash of light following as rain dripped soundlessly from above.
He winced as the sudden downpour soaked him, breaking into a quick trot. Shibe let a grunt slip from his maw as bushes caught on his pelt, but he pushed forward, seeking shelter under a large boulder that overhung over a slab of stone, a temporary safe-haven. The wolf looked, tiredly, out at the sheets of rain tumbling heavily to the earth.