Witch's Marsh No Room in Frame

Despite Reek's best attempts at ridding himself of the mud that clung to his pelt, it still stuck to his body in thick, dirty clumps.  Not an inch was spared from it's earthly cover.  She responded in the expected way; laugher. Reek didn't hold it against her. In fact, he found her chortles infectious, and soon he found himself laughing along with her. The only clean part of his body was flashed in a wide and happy grin.

He held his body in a loose manner— not one that was suggesting of his status.  He had no authority in the wetlands. Here, he was just another wolf.  Part of him liked that better as there were no obligations, no one to disappoint, just himself and the open world around him.  

"Oh, it's fine," he reassured. "I'm Reek." He paused for a moment and smelled the stranger. Her scent was familiar— he briefly recalled Bazi and Scimitar, the Maplewood's closest allies. "You're with the grove aren't you?" he asked with a chipper quality to his voice. "It's been so long. How are Bazi and Scim. Their kids?"