Otatso Wetlands bad blood

As murky water splashed up his nostrils, the long-limbed boy pushed forward, determined to get through the wetlands as quickly as possible. He desperately wanted to find a proper body of water to rinse his coat, as this disgusting mess was doing nothing but horrible things to once silky pelt. The frown that creased his licorice lips seemed as though it was permanently tattooed there – as Klaus could not remember the last time a smile had worked its way across his maw. Happiness was a lie… the only happiness he had ever known had been ripped away from him, so the small shadow saw no need to smile. There were so many new scents filling the air around him that the crimson-eyed youth had not noticed the large male in the distance. It was not until he was nearly halfway through the marsh that the scent of another finally reached him, but by that time it was too late. The stranger had already noticed him and called out to him. Nearly cursing (which was a horrible habit for a wolf so young), Niklaus desperately tried to come up with an escape plan. He had gone so long without having to cross paths with another, why was his luck suddenly running out now? “You: what are you doing?” His frown deepened even more as he continued moving, his bloody gaze not once wavering from the path before him. Was the stranger blind? Surely it was apparent what he was doing; he was walking. Well, trying to, but definitely walking. Through a marsh. Not dignifying the older male with a response, he pressed forward, hoping that the stranger would lose interest in him.