Witch's Marsh life is a game, where the player must appear ridiculous

@Scimitar maybe?

She'd gotten turned around. Herbalist's Cache was nearby to Phoenix Maplewood. She knew it, but she when she'd picked a direction at random she'd ventured a little too much south and a little less west than she should have traveled. She assumed she simply overshot her destination when there were a heck of a lot less forests and a considerable amount more of spooky swamp. How any deity designed such a wretched place was beyond her. It seemed down right insufferable.

A sweet scent upon the air caught her attention. Was something still flowering in autumn? She hadn't the faintest idea, but if there was a herb of some sort that could survive the onset of cold it would serve her garden greatly. She ventured forth, turning her nose away from the swam smells and pick a path to best avoid the muck of the mire. She had no desire to dirty herself in this. Only to track that scent and hope it could serve her medically.

In her efforts she was flocked, no, swarmed by insects. The pesky little bugs stalked her, buzzing about her fur as though she was the only creature present to bother. She huffed, her breath causing a dragonfly to spiral out of control as it caught wing and zipped off. Her tail flicked behind her in her discomfort as she pressed forward. She'd find the source eventually. So long as she didn't get lost in here, she'd be fine.