~Furgale Switchfoot~
Prolouge
"Rain. Some people enjoy it others just get wet."
-Anon-
It felt good to have the water flowing over his fur and onto the ground. His brown tunic once draped casually over him was now sticking to his fur. He walked forward searching for shelter in no big hurry, not really caring whether he found some or not. A tree brushed by him as the water dripped of the freshly disturbed leaves and onto the ground. He spotted a cave up ahead of him. He walked up to its entrance and yelled inside "Anybody home???" There was no answer so he entered. He took off his weapons and set about to find some firewood so he could dry him self off by the fire. He reached into his pack and pulled out his tender and flint. Thank goodness his pack was waterproof. He knew he'd done that for a reason. He found a pile of dry wood in a corner, grabbed some pieces and started cutting some kindling for the fire from it with his knife. He ripped the tender in half saving some of it for the next time he needed it and tossed the other half onto the floor. He piled the kindling onto it and then strategically placed some pieces of wood on top of it. Finally he took his flint and started to strike it on a rock he picked up from the cave floor. It took a while for the sparks to catch but when they finally did the tender started blazing merely. The kindling soon caught on fire. He quickly placed more wood on the fire. Soon the fire illuminated the room enough for him to see the most of the cave. It was like most typical caves. Stalactites on the ceiling the only peculiar thing was that there was no stalagmites on the ground and the pile of dry wood set inside. He wondered about that for a while but sleep soon overcame him and took him into oblivion to dream of scoff and plunder (probably also scoff).