I slowly opened my eyes, trying to recall the events of the night before. I felt a drop of liquid fall onto my neck and looked down at the puddle that had formed under my feet from the dripping remains of the storm.

My horse, Jack, uttered a cry of worry. At least that’s what I guessed it was. I ran over to him and stroked his mane. He always liked when I did that.

Looking back at my pitiful excuse for shelter, I noticed my boots and socks still hanging up to dry from the night before.

“They should be dry by now,” I whispered to myself as I walked over.