Twisted Slough not gonna let you get away so easy

Slush collected in the feathering on his forelegs, slimy and freezing as he plunged forward into the putrid swamplands.

Perhaps it had been a mistake coming here at all, much like the barrier mountains he'd crossed but at least there a pretty redhead kept him company.

He didn't think he'd have that kind of luck here.

But he pressed on.  Hours later, his stomach began to protest.  But a stroke of fate brought the scent of a doe, and he stalked her as quiet as a goliath in a swamp could.

Breath plumed out from her nostrils, in-out-in-out, the pace of air spread too thin in the lungs; perhaps she had issues traversing this muck.

Lurching forward, the lion grasps the thigh of the deer, pulling her down into the thick with him.  She kicks and struggles but he holds firm — although now he is beginning to think he won't be able to do this alone.