Black Morass the wooooooorrrrst

this place was gross af. cardi had no idea how she got stuck here, only that she was going one way at one point and then somehow ended up going a completely different way. hey, she was a seafarer, not a landlubber. anywhere farther than a stone's throw away from the beach and her sense of direction was fucking shot, man.

frackin a, she mumbled, working her way through the mire. the filth went up nearly to her flanks, giving her dark 'socks' that furthered her already foxlike appearance (little did she know about her old dead auntie of that name). squinting, she squelched and sloshed, sending mud flying. 

but where the fuck was she headed? honestly, no clue. ma had ended up driving her bonkers and so one day, cardi split. and that was that. of course, she was confident in her ability to thrive -- and she'd never admit otherwise, not even a shred of doubt. 

she just needed to find some poor sucker dumb enough to put up with her ass. long enough to get a decent meal or two, at least.

Well, if Bacardi got anything from their papa, it was a lack of direction - referring to the cardinal points or to a direction in life, that's up to you. Dingo hadn't meant to come all the way out here but somehow he'd gotten turned around too - go figure. It's almost like there's an unseen force guiding his actions. A narrator drawing him out of one forest and in to another without any rhyme or reason, utterly chaotic with its intention. :|

He'd split from the 'strath with the full intention to return, of course, but had very poor luck with tracking game and keeping himself occupied. What he really needed was some vagoose; it was his main motivating factor, and he'd follow his divining rod across the known world in search of some fresh meat, in one form or another. 

As he came upon the morass he wondered, 'Why is it called a more-ass? Are there chicks here? Will they throw themselves at me butt-first, or something? That'd be a good waste of a few hours --' And then the earth began to soften beneath his paws, his toes sinking in to the silt and the grime, until he saw a beacon in the dark. A nice round buttocks positioned so near that he thought he had surely gone mental; it was probably a mirage.

Oh, so that's what it means by morass. He commented to himself, certain that this youthful, curvy, vaguely familiar golden rear was about to fade away before his lusty gaze.

some sorta muttering got her attention, and she turned to see a dude with lascivious written all over his smug face. cardi wrinkled her nose at him, doing her best to make the 'pirate sneer' that her seafaring friends and fam were so, so good at. (she was, too. . .but she always wanted to be better.)

the fuck do you want? she retorted, tail lashing behind her. he looked vaguely familiar, and one would think that with how vain cardi was, she would see herself in him immediately.

as it was, she was so vain that she couldn't find a single, solitary trace of herself within this a-hole. for now, he was just some joe schmo, and furthermore, he was a joe schmo that was distracting her from the really important thing -- getting out of this fuckin swamp.

Thus spake the ass, The fuck do you want?

Dingo watched her tail shifting back and forth and thought of many horrible, lewd, invasive things he could do if he timed things right; but instead of pursuing his desires he held back. It was unusual for him to do so, except he was thinking about the 'strath and how close he was to that perfect vacation he had been equally obsessed over - just a few more bodies and voila! He would be able to relax for the rest of the summer, get fat, and enjoy the company of all the women he had collected.

Although his eyes said one thing (temperance was never his thing), he rolled out the sales pitch with the same enthusiasm as a door-to-door knife salesman: Its your lucky day! You are so fortunate to have run in to me, because I am recruiting for a band of merry misfits. Are you tired of scavenging for every meal? Do you need a vacation from the toils and tribulations of the road? Does the thought of sleeping all day and partying all night with a gorgeous young bachelor intrigue you? Okay that last one didn't look like it had a good response right off the bat but he would roll with it -- Come with me if you want to live -- in a chill pack with some decent people! Er, mostly decent. Decent isn't really my style but, theres food and many places to explore if you need your own space.

Taking a deeeep breath to compensate for all the hot air he had expelled, Dingo concluded with: What say you?