Cricket Creek Bog Another day

Just a late night activity post, anyone's welcome to join in

About two weeks Rye had been apart of RedHawks, time mostly spent moseying around but still he wasn't accustomed to the land. That and he still hadn't met majority of the pack, Rye figured everyone was busy, which he didn't mind. The male kept himself occupied, napping, eating, and now venturing to Cricket Creek Bog. Though the name was unknown to Rye, he didnt care. He was just up for a late night walk, though out of territory, he wasn't worried about much other than wolves, and other predators. However, it was night, so Rye kept hope that most major threats would be asleep but he knew some hunted in the light of the moon. 

The thing Rye was hit with first upon reaching the bog was the loud Crickets, Grasshoppers and God knows what else, singing a seemingly out of tune song. It was a song in a language Rye didn't understand, and frankly, he hoped he'd never learn, probably nothing but nonstop chattering anyways. Ignoring the chirps, the multi colored male made his way through the wetland, his paws slightly sinking into the mud with each step and with that, he got closer to the stream. As Rye was walking he could feel the occasional Cricket, or Grasshopper tap his legs, sides and sometimes neck as they scrambled to get away from him. Rye laughed as a few got caught in his fur and squrimed to get free of his thick pelt, feeling their little legs wiggle against his skin and eventually push off from it. 

The bog was peaceful to Rye, though the songs the insects sung was still horrendous, the male was still at peace on the chilly night. It was a beautiful, partly cloudy night, the moon just peeking out enough from under a cloud to shed some light upon the land.