Frogspawn Swamp whitewalls on the wheels like mayonnaise

Niamh was a relatively outgoing wolf- but her chattiness paled in complexion when compared to Tegan's. It actually made travelling easier- she'd travelled plenty with her brother, but that was somehow different. The journey she took now was with someone she'd only just met, and someone who wasn't family. She was also quite aware of the fact that she couldn't let Tegan get hurt or attacked while they travelled, or she'd have the wrath of the entire pack at her heels- led by Finley, Clover and Fiadh, and that was certainly something she didn't want. While Tegan was content to jabber on, Niamh kept one ear cocked to listen to their surroundings, the other turned toward her loquacious companion. 

Tegan was the first to press one foot into the mud, and she paused for a moment, deterred by the smell. "That stank!" She exclaimed, venturing forward to press only one foot in- but when she did, the other forefoot got sucked in too. She backpedaled with a surprised, muted squeak, flailing one forepaw and then the other. "Fucking dégueulasse!" She said, using one of very few French words she knew. She moved away from the swampy mud to brush her feet against the swamp grass, trying to get the mud off and doing so relatively effectively. 

When he asked how she was, she shrugged one shoulder. "Eh, I'm dandy. Kind of nice to be on the go again, I guess I missed it, but didn't realize it. My brother and I used to do shit like this all the time." She said, flicking one foot and sending a small glob of mud flying off into the bullrushes. Something out of sight, behind the tall, sharp blades of grass made a low growl of a noise and rustled the grass slightly. Niamh bristled and turned toward the sound, eyes narrowed- until a bullfrog emerged and repeated the same, guttural noise.