Otatso Wetlands You can break me if that's what you want

He was unsure as to why he was drawn so far from the Woods, past the mountains. Wanderlust called to him early that night, soon after the sun set beneath the sky. It was a typical chilly autumn evening, wind pushing and pulling through his fur as he strode farther north than he had so far. It wasn't long before he reached a particularly interesting landmark. His paws sunk into wet ground and he snorted softly.

He trudged forward through the muck, standing on the more solid ground, though it was not as bad as the swamp on the eastern side of the Woods. He eventually reached a gliding rhythm, moving gracefully through the wetlands. It was a beautiful sight, the moon's glow radiating through the trees of the swamp; he had no doubt it reflected against his fur, making him glow in that peculiar way similar to ravens and crows.