Witch's Marsh Click here to win a FREE thread!

The black mud was eating her.
I was eating her paws, and everytime she took a step it would bite her paws again. Vada was not happy about this. She didn't like the black mud, as it was very rude. She begun walking faster toward dry ground, until the was running, she was sprinting. But the black mud grabbed her paws and slowed her down, so Vada went faster. 

The wolfdog collapsed in a panting heap on the nice mud, the one that didn't eat her. She was covered in mud, dead vegitation, and other marsh-like objects, and she truly looked like something dead, laying motionlessly on the knoll. Perhaps a passing wolf would find her tasty. Since her freedom, she had been heading in the same direction, though why she could not tell. She needed to get somewhere, and somewhere needed her to get to it.