petrichor
From here.
@mouthydwarf
Ana scoffs and eyes his pipe, one eyebrow raised towards the darkened sky, “I think the tar is you, Varric,” she posits, a smirk pulling on her lips.
“Besides, it doesn’t snow enough in Kirkwall for there to be a thaw.” She holds her hand out for a moment, rain splattering against her skin. Hm. Well, at least it’s not a cold rain. Being sure to shake the excess water in Varric’s direction, Ana withdraws her hand and wipes it off on her skirt.
It’s odd, watching the stone walls of the city change color; Splotches of dark grey consuming the familiar, dusty, tan of the buildings. It really does have a difference smell. She remember the fields outside of Lothering, the mud, and grass, and trees, how the rain gave them new life. Rain here smelled of granite, or damp alleys and dark corners. She doesn’t mind the difference, merely notes that it is there, and turns towards her companion again, leaning against the dry wall.
“What are we doing out here, again? And why couldn’t it wait until after the storm? I have a book, a cup of tea, and a very lazy mabari waiting for me.”
