Witch's Marsh I assure you, i'm not dazzled by your presence

It was a rather odd conundrum that he'd found himself in.

On one side, he technically was no stranger to the region; idly he'd been wandering for over a year, close to two, and on some degree had familiarized himself with the basics of its lands. Their odd day-to-night ratio shifts as the year progressed and regressed, the overall drop in temperatures compared to his home down south, and the strange array of prey and predators alike. Then again, as familiar as he'd like to say he was, he had not truly become accustomed to the finer details. The peoples, the cultures, the customs and legends that held an omnipresent air over it all, those were still simple shades he was aware of, but could not speak about with confidence.

Though he had seen many in passing over countless moons, Kukulkan hadn't had more than a few words with anyone other than Ibis in too long of a time.

Altogether, this left him uncomfortably blind. Naive.
Vulnerable.

And as amiable as K had always regarded himself to be, vulnerability was never something his bloodline had been adept at handling. It left him with a hot, flustered feeling that came in waves and sunk in deep, almost always just as he was finally getting over it, as he was forgetting about it. He'd be left feeling as though he had to catch his breath all of a sudden when it rushed in, but as a performer, as an entertainer, he never let this outright phase him. A roll of his shoulders, a flex of his limbs, and a flicker of his ear and the towering mass of might continued his stride through the northernmost sector of the marshes, where the mouth of a river meshed with muck.

Here he scouted and scoured, checking for scents that bore hints of hostility, checking for Ibis - her scent seemed to linger in many places, he was always too late to catch her it seemed. But when those efforts came back in the clear, the son of the sea found a comfort in wading through the shallow edges of the river, where the waters longed to breach against the divots of grassy lands. The subtle weightlessness his paws felt, caressed and suspended, when he slowly moved through its gentle currents was a cool, dazzling charm. Reminiscent of home.

Or, at least, as reminiscent as this place could manage.

But as the skies began to break, the softest of lights fading up from the east and casting a chill of blue light across the marshes before him, Kukulkan noticed a figure where the dampness of the marshes gave way to the bravest of trees. "'ey!" Had been his gut reaction, a crow barked across the fragile morning air. With a splash and a heave the wolf exited the edge of the river and made quick of his efforts, an easy, streamlined glide across steadily diminishing grasses as they descended into the shade of the canopies.

"Heya there strang'r, enjoyin' this'ere fine mornin'?" Confidence beamed out of every seam, and Kukulkan approached rather closely. "Do I know ya?" His customary grin was spread wide, though there was a heavy tone of inquiry in his voice. It was, of course, a rather rhetorical question, but the true answer he wanted was whether or not he should know him.

@Awol