Fishblight Mire i told the devil to take you back

He trudged bravely onward and rejoiced at the realization that, ever so gradually, the landscape was changing. The water was clearing, the land was drying up. Even the air smelled sweeter, cleaner. Hey, I think we're almost out of here. Maybe, he said, grinning in excitement. Man, I want nothing more than a good soak right now. Sriracha sighed, already imagining the feel of cool water on his skin, the mud washing away in a gentle current.

Again it was time to talk about himself, and more specifically, his home. He had fought for his home, and loved it dearly, though that had not stopped him from leaving. I am from the south. Far, far south, where deserts and scrublands are all you can see, he explained with reverence. Then, quite suddenly, he wanted to know what kind of home had produced a wolf like Ocra. Y tu? What about you?