Once her voluminous robes soaked through, Albali looked like nothing so much as a bedraggled black cat.  Her ears still propped up the corners of her hood, but otherwise the fabric clung to the frame that usually remained hidden, revealing its skinny, lanky shape.  As before with Ain gone, there was a sense of determination about her to close the gap between them, and the details she revealed to Xarithe and the others about what he'd seen were delivered with a sort of absentmindedness.  Her thoughts were more with the bird than with them.  When Ain announced that he'd grounded himself, she became markedly glum, but voted that it was better if they were going to stop and refocus themselves, they should find a hollow out of the rain here, before they approached the temple. (If in fact there was a temple when they arrived.  Leave it to fool cultists to build out of mud in a rainy jungle when they were surrounded by timber.  Perhaps if the druid was any indication, their breath would have rotted the walls.)