Fishblight Mire trials and tribulations

Shluck, shluck, shluck, came the unmistakable call of the mud quickly being traversed. Menta's bored concentration was broken - as was the growing confidence of the fish - and she quickly looked up to find a wolf making their way towards her. Fish at hand were promptly forgotten - not that she had a chance with them anymore - and the cream wolf put up her guard.

It was with recognition of this wolf that she gave a slow wag, unsure exactly what the protocol here was. They were on neutral territory, but they had very much been on neutral territory before when they last met - and Menta had been chased off, although that wasn't necessarily a call that Lagertha made. The greeting given was cheerful enough that she stayed still, and even gave a wide smile of hope.

Hello, she said pleasantly to accompany the wag. Here for fishing? There didn't seem to be much more reason to slip into this mud, although Menta supposed some wolves had fun rolling around in this sticky substance. Certainly the stench alone would put them off of this particular spot.