Fishblight Mire underscore one point one

Her words seemed to startle him, for he nearly slipped right off the log he was perched upon. But he was quick to regain his footing, seemingly uneager to fall into the murky mess that was the swamp. He faced her with a smile, a sincere one, and a wagging tail. His words caused her to tilt her head slightly in curiosity, and ask of the male, "Customs? What kind of customs?" Was it a religion, a legend, traditions? Minna had no idea, but it interested her.