Fishblight Mire trials and tribulations

Menta gave Lagertha a smile and a wag of the tail at her remark. Friendly and friends, she agreed, pushing the latter as a proposition. She rather liked the grey wolf beside her and watched as she splashed a little bit of the more clear water around.

A good idea, she thought, and splashed a bit of it up on her legs to try to disperse some of this stuck mud. It still had some of that residual stench that had clogged her nose in the middle of the muck, but at least it came up clear and hopefully with the ability to wash some of this mess away. 

Where does your accent come from? she asked now, pinpointing the curiosity she had held since they had first met. It's lovely, Menta added on in a rush, realizing that the rather direct question could come as both rude and insulting if seen in the wrong light.