The rain is like a curtain over the cave entrance.
She still hasn't opened the book. She's still waiting, staring at the flood of waters obscuring her view.
She's still hoping he'll come.
Thunder rolls in. There's the flash of lightning outside, and the last of her hope begins to wane.
Wrinkling her nose, she scratches the tip where it itches, eyes still fixed outside the cave. The storm is violent, and he has others he is responsible for. She frowns but doesn't want him to take unnecessary risks.
With a sigh, she stands in resignation. Other storms will come.
