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It's not a bad shelter at all, if it had only been located at a decent altitude. It has been used by gatherers, medics and scouts in the past, but never for very long. The ground is only a wingspan down, and there might be beasts down there.

Gotta get to shelter gotta get to shelter gotta...

Tousled had completely forgotten herself, immersed in her work she hadn't noticed how the wind picked up, or the first gentle spatterings of rain. Not until a sudden thunderclap had sounded almost right over her head had she managed to snap out of her daze - and three heartbeats later the drizzle became an ice-cold downpour.

Her wings beat frantically against the weight of the watery assault and her heart beat just as hard against the cage of her ribs. There was no way that she would make it all the way home. Her mind raced to think of any other possible shelter, when a bolt of recognition suddenly ran through her panicked mind. That tree, that bush down there... that's where she had found a surprisingly sparkly rock, once, and if she remembered correctly...

Folding her wings and entering a reckless nosedive that was more desperation than any sort of showiness, the ruffled little Deep Woods sped towards the ground and straightened up - quite ungracefully - almost at the last minute. A quick circle around the area sent her heart and hopes soaring, as she recognised the protected hollow that she had found that very same day.

Seconds later, Tousled tumbled into the shelter - Safe!

Whirlwind had barely decided to prepare for the appearance of a possible ill-intended visitor when a large soaked shape stumbled into the shelter. “Oh, no you don’t. You will not find a shelter here and you will certainly not find a meal either!” When the thoughts ran through her mind, the medic had already jumped forward, talons ready to slash the invader, a long dangerous screech leaving her beak.

“Sentiel! Sentieeel!!!” The white mus was quick to hide behind his master when Tousled entered the dry space but as the medic moved against the apparent threat, the little creature realized the intruder was a sentinel before Whirlwind did.

The deep woods medic was alerted to this particular fact by the cries of her companion and made a rather pitiful attempt at avoiding Tousled, flapping madly in order not to collide with her. Though she was partially successful and the only contact made with Tousled was as her wingtip grazed the in-comer’s face, lowering her talons so abruptly made her lose her balance and the medic turned to the left and ended up hitting the shelter’s wall will a soft thud. Thankfully, the speed wasn’t enough to cause serious damage and Whirlwind turned to face the female, ready to apologize for the rather harsh welcome. She never did. As her beak opened to say the words, the female’s expression froze for a second before turning to shock.

“Was… was that a child?”

Meanwhile Craneberry holds on for dear life, gripping the branch with her small talons. Her perch is not far from the shelter at all, and the adults could probably see her pale feathers through the blurring rain.

In her panic it hasn't occurred to her to look down for the Sentinels she saw earlier. In fact, Craneberry's eyes are firmly shut and she's trying very hard to wake up from this bad dream.

Tousled shook herself down quickly but thouroughly, trying to get as much excess water as possible out of her uneven plumage as well as trying to shake some warmth back into her chilled little body. She, too, had seen the small, bright shape through the torrential rain and knew what had to be done. But she would have to be swift about it, and she was already cold, weary, wet and sluggish so she needed this brief moment to collect herself and put her own needs aside.

When she looked up, it was with all the determination that she could muster. "Yes," she said, giving the painted Deep Woods a decisive nod. "We must. I'm not strong, either, so we have to go together."

She hopped out right next to the unnamed female and squinted briefly in the rain. In her heart she held two pictures firmly before herself. One was of Moult, how she imagined him in his youth, how strong and brave he must have been - and she tried to fashion herself accordingly, at least for a little while. The other was also of Moult, the way he had looked when he had been caught out in a storm much like this one - and she knew she would never forgive herself if the same thing were to happen to this little one.

Her sights set, the little Crafter launched herself into the storm with a heart pounding like that of a chased rabbit.

Tousled’s resolve pushed away all of Whirlwind’s hesitation and the medic jumped after the female, determined to reach the little ghost as quickly as possible. The wind made gliding terribly hard so she had to constantly flap her wings in order to keep flying in a steady direction. With a strong gust of wind hindering her approach, she landed heavily on the branch next to the fledgling. “The shelter is further down!” she shouted against the Thunderbird’s roars. “Can you fly there? We’ll help.”

Wit crouched as far away from the opening as possible, wide-eyed. Not that the companion was used to rely on his owner but finding himself suddenly alone in the middle of a thunder storm made the poor creature tremble in panic.

Not just one, but two other Sentinels joined Craneberry, and the warmth from another body was comforting to the cold and frightened fledgling. Everything was going to be fine now. She was safe. She huddled up against the Sentinel next to her. Safe.

"The shelter is further down!" one of the females said, shattering Craneberry's happy delusion. "Can you fly there? We'll help."

Down. There. Shelter.

Of course, they needed shelter for the storm. Craneberry looked from one female to the other, suddenly realising the danger they were in. One of them looked especially worse for wear and her feathers were in complete disarray. Thunderbird must have got her bad.

She focused on the shelter and in her agitated state her vision seemed to narrow until her destination was all she could see. Yes. She could do it. She could do it. Right? She flew much better now than she had done just a few short weeks ago. No problem. No problem at all... No...

"Yes," she said in a small voice that was barely audible over the wind. No. Going to crash. Going down. NO! I can do this. I can. "Now?" she asked, and then did something both very brave and very foolish. The wind seemed to die down a little bit and Craneberry took that opportunity to jump from the branch, before she had time to become afraid again. She fanned her wings to her best ability in an attempt to slow down what was more like a barely controlled fall than a dive.