Three Sentence Ficathon

"Hmph," Misto resettled his front paws, looking out from the overhang sheltering them from the rain, "it's miserable out there today."

"Only if we go out there." Tugger pointed out reasonably, purring as he settled down alongside his mate, nuzzling his ear and beginning to wash the few droplets of rain away from his neck and head.

Misto shifted restlessly, but slowly relaxed under his mate's affection, melting into Tugger's warmth and his thick coat, the sound of the falling rain fading into the background as he drifted.