The lake was once a pleasant place to be, especially when the ducks were not present. But ever since the world started to self-destruct, things had changed. The lands which he once knew were altered, nearly unrecognisable. A few territories had managed to avoid the destruction, whereas others had not. Unsurprisingly, Duck Lake had pulled the short stick and was cast underwater, reminding him of the marsh he’d left behind him long ago.

Alexander walked carefully through the glade, forcing a paw down to test the earth prior to committing to a step. He managed to avoid falling through any major parts thus far, yet the sound of distant splashing suggested that, perhaps, someone else had not been so lucky. Still, Xan continued carefully, gaze drifting towards the shapes of other wolves as he neared them—but, ultimately, he did not outright approach.

Normally, Alexander would be done and out of there the same moment he spotted the pair but, sadly, the marsh wasn’t willing to let that happen—not unless he wanted to fall into some rather questionable pockets of water, that is. Reduced to a pace far slower than the typical, he was a sitting duck, waiting to be spotted. And spot they did—he assumed, anyways, feeling that uncomfortable burn against his side that came with an unwelcome stare. Pausing mid-step, the man glanced in their direction and took note of not one but two sets of eyes on him.

In an attempt to further avoid them, Xan turned and tried his luck in a different direction. If he could get far enough from them, he shouldn’t have to worry about an actual encoun—“Fuck!”

One wrong move and he was quickly reminded of the reason for his previously slow and calculated pace. All it took was moving a tad bit too swiftly and he was underwater, an audible splash mocking him. Breaking back through to the surface wasn’t difficult but getting out of the water was an entirely different story. Forgetting about the pair in the distance, he focused on trying to find footholds sturdy enough for him to drag his muddy self out of the marsh.

Each time he thought he found a decent enough foothold, the earth fell away beneath his paws and he was descending back into the water. At this point, he was completely drenched, cold, and miserable—oh, and pissed off. Primarily at himself for not being more careful but also at the state of the land as a whole; if the territory was just how it had always been, this wouldn’t be a problem right now. But it was, and he was getting more and more frustrated with each second that passed.

After several more failed attempts, Alexander was able to drag himself out of the water and back onto (somewhat) solid ground. It was around then that he also took notice to the drastic decrease in space between himself and the others. Realising that he probably wouldn’t be able to get away without risk of falling back into the water, he stood his ground and stared at them, figuring he would just get the conversation done and over with.