Emberwood Or a sum of your parts just hanging in the air?

I'm so sorry for the late post! Just got back from a convention and should start replying regularly from here on out.

Thoroughly soaked. Utterly drenched. The edge of Otatso Wetlands leading into the wood had given Donoma the parting gift of a surprise swim in a murky pool hidden beneath an initially welcoming carpet of duckweed. Typically, a quick dip would have been welcomed by the wolfess, but this particular basin had been home to a particularly large family of leeches who had greeted the canine company warmly. Though their prickly tongues didn't pierce her thick fur, the parasites clung firmly to tufts of her coat, unphased by her maniacal shaking and panicked baying. Fortunately, she'd managed to pluck the ones from her limbs and lower back with her teeth, but quite a few remained stuck within the guardhairs of her nape, hanging down like wet, inky dreadlocks.


​Previously, Donoma had been trying to traverse Phoenix Maplewood to get to Witch's Marsh, but had been falsely instructed by a scrawny coyote to go Southwest instead and had landed in the wetlands. Continuing West, the she-wolf had continued to seek the rich fenland she was promised, and thus, had ended up wet, frigid, leeched, and flecked with duckweed beneath the canopy that was Emberwood.

​Shivering, the bitch lifted her nose meekly to smell. Wolfscent was everywhere. In her panic, she'd neglected to check the land for any markers, and hadn't noticed the reek prior due to the plant-matter clogging her nostrils. Suddenly, Donoma sighed with relief. She was downwind. Unless the breeze changed direction, she assumed she'd be fine, lest one of the group members were to backtrack for any reason. It looked to her that a pack of sorts had been traveling through the brush, a trail of broken twigs and scattered leaves in their wake. By the scent, it had a fair populace, but seemed limited to that trail- so she doubted that they were residents. Perhaps, she thought, they were seeking new packmates. Or food. Or both.

​Regarding the state of her fur and overall composure, the female took in a deep breath, recollecting her equanimity. Perhaps these canines would lend her a paw, as she'd already given up hope for finding Witch's Marsh. The prospect of company, or at least someone to bite the waterworms from her hide sounded gorgeous to Donoma, so she decided to follow. Cautiously.