Witch's Marsh You are paying for that snake to be dry-cleaned

When she was finally near enough to catch the voices on the wind she was immediately saddened that they were not familiar; this was a brief moment of knowing, of processing, reacting... And then Ibis continued to prance her way through the soggy reeds and mud, intent to complete what she had begun even if her brother wasn't present. At the very least it sounded like two beings trying to cross the marsh; she could tell them of the dryer routes if it helped, ever eager to lend aid to strangers.

When Ibis emerges from the copse of forest she spies a spindly thing of mixed complexion - thinking the narrowly built creature is having a conversation with a floating pile of snow initially, Ibis does not move to intercept the pale shape and seems focused on the other. But when she is exposed upon a raised segment of roots and raised loam she does make the connection.

Hello! She calls out in mild surprise when she notices that the snow pile has eyes; the wolf is half-slicked with mud which accounts for her poor judgement. Ibis looks from pale wolf to autumnal wolf, then back, not sure how to proceed in that awkward span of time, and says, If you're sick of the mud I know a dry route for crossing the marsh, if you'd like?