Otatso Wetlands your actions don't rewind

On the wind, locals bark about the hauntings that linger within the Wetlands. The Wayfarer fears none, certainly not the dead. Injury, however, slows him down. His pace kept to a crawl now despite his urgings.

In the lowlight of sunset, the dark undergrowth and tangle of flora becomes an obstacle course. Lush grsses and plants pull at his legs; the cold muck of the Wetlands making each limb heavier.

Eventually, he finds a dry enough spot, reclining to lick his wounds once more.