Heron Lake Plateau Troy, this is Midsomer

He was glad that she took him up on that, for if she said no... Well.  Quixote wasn't a great conversationalist unless he was just ranting about something, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep up those usual raves, let's say.  Anyway, his dumb joke seemed to go over well!  Got a laugh out of her at least, and for a brief moment it seemed she might get even closer so he could--- nope.  She moved off ahead, Quixote not too far along behind like a faithful shadow.  Okay, maybe not quite that distance yet.  He didn't want to overstep his bounds.  But was it really?  Would she mind?  He wouldn't.  Oh, I'm sure give it a month or whatever, I'll have it down.  A show of playful confidence as he tried to suss out if that little jog was the start of a game or not.  Hell, he could watch her run along just in front of him all day, wouldn't mind a minute of it.  He was just about up alongside her again.

But it was perhaps a little too much ego (fake or not) and a definitely too little paying attention.  Quixote wasn't watching where he was going, though, and as he caught up he wandered straight through a particularly muddy patch that had a strong desire to keep his left front leg all to itself.  He immediately tipped forward with a very unmanly yip, momentum rolling him onto his left side, paw coming free with a shhwuk.  Quixote was actually a little dazed from it -- not from the fall, that was nothing -- the fact it had happened in the first place.  Where did that come from?  Something did have to go wrong, didn't it?  But he wasn't expecting it to be now or this. Pulling himself back to his feet, he was crestfallen at the whole thing and momentarily well and truly distracted from the heat scent, Also, there's mud.  He tried to shake out his fur but what stuck seemed keen to stay.  He was now sporting a lovely brown stripe up his elbow, shoulder, certain points on his hip and ribs, and a lovely smudge on his cheek to compliment the boots he already had.  Forcing a sheepish smile as he searched to see if he'd lost his opportunity by being a moron, Never fear, I'm an expert idiot.