Cricket Creek Bog soar higher than the stars

Some days ago he had found the bog. It had not proven very comfortable, but there was food aplenty if you had the stomach and knew where to look. Voodoo was disgusting enough, and so he was able to burrow into the frozen soil for hibernating turtles and frogs. It did not require near half as much energy as a regular hunt would, and he felt like he spent most of his days shivering, so he would cut corners where he would.

With his stomach full, Voodoo set out for the day, wandering half-aimlessly in search of his next meal or his next source of entertainment, whichever first came first. He came upon the latter first, a sight of white fur on white snow and the brown bog mud. For a moment he watched her from a distance, then approached wordlessly, sitting across the pool from her and merely watching.