Otatso Wetlands 40 nights to sit and listen to that midnight train to memphis

A tumble on some loose rocks had left her shaken, sore, and ashamed. Alya consoled herself with the knowledge that these were not her mountains, and that she would never have misstepped on her home turf. Her mountains just wouldn't do that to her. But she was still embarrassed, and still a bit wobbly as she came down from the steppes and entered the valley for the first time.

There was a pack to the south, but Alya could already tell that it was not Easthollow. The location was wrong and the scent unfamiliar. She knew they were not north, so the only option was to go around the riverside pack and continue south. And she would do that as soon as she found her way out of the awful mire she'd stumbled into. The mud was thick and foul-smelled, and Alya was alarmed when she tried to take another step and found herself completely unable to lift her back leg - the one that had already been injured by her mountainside tumble.

Several hours later saw her in the same place, only several inches deeper in the mud. She was filthy, exhausted, and terrified by her predicament. There was no other choice - she was going to have to do something she hadn't done since she'd been a tiny slip of a girl.

"Help! Please, someone help me!"

Somehow, screaming for help only increased her terror.