Fishblight Mire feels like day two of an endless war

@Tadec — sorry it's short and weird-ish! still trying to figure this boi out. :-)

there is a twisting scowl of distinctive disgust upon the wolfdog's muzzle as he moves through the cold, damp mire, the ice cold mud squelching unattractively beneath his paws as he trudges begrudgingly through it. he's got no other choice, really, without backtracking and that's only slightly more unappealing than the mud — but it's a very close and thin line, mind. it was going to take at least three baths to get all the mud out of his fur and he's covered in it from his underside down to and between his toes. he makes an effort not to think about it as he sees a large boulder up ahead and wrestles his way out of the mud to climb it. his lip curls as he glimpses down, the sun peeking out of the clouds that have been drifting over it on and off all morning to reveal just how filthy he'd really became during his godawful trek through the mire. as a beast of prestige and vanity he heaves a heavy sigh as he sinks into a sphinx-like position on the boulder and claims it as his temporary perch. it's physically tiring walking through all that muck and mud and he figures an hour or two of rest would likely be enough to see him through the tail end of the mire where he intends to never return to once he's free of it.