You shake off all the wet from your feathers in a dance that would appease the gods, if you believed in any.
A lot of the wet gets onto the ground and walls, some of it onto the deadbox, and a few select droplets of wet get onto your flame. Not enough to dowse it, but enough to make a soothing crackle.
*pop*
The fire makes as you dewet yourself.
Steam plums off of the fire after the drying.