Otatso Wetlands I won't give up, no I won't give in.

He'd passed by the maple forest, his eyes glazed over with how utterly magnificent it looked, and hadn't paid any attention to the trajectory of his path. So when he inevitably ended up neck-deep in freezing silt-laden water, Tiffany wished he could backtrack to that forest and pretend none of this ever happened. It was unfortunate that he was covered in grime now - but worse than that, the mud was so thick and cold at the bottom of the wetland that his paws kept getting stuck! Each time he pulled a limb free enough to take a step he thought he was losing chunks of fur. It wasn't fun.

Eventually he made his way along until the ground was more solid, and he could hoist himself free. It took some wiggling, some kicking, and some weird contortions of his body to finally get every limb free (his poor tail was rank with mud that smelled like rotten eggs, oh the indignity!); but he managed to get free.

The falling snow obscured the wolf-shaped chasm he had formed behind himself pretty quickly. He looked over his shoulder at the deep gouge that was turning white, and huffed. When he turned back to try and plot out his next move, he saw -- well, at first Tiffany wasn't sure. A bundle of grey-white moving through the snow without any effort at all. Possibly a woman! Maybe a damsel in distress? He was squinting through the snowfall but couldn't make out the details. It was enough to prompt a lunge from the pile of roots and snow, though.

Right back in to the mire, which he entered chest-first, tripping on his own paws and eating dirt in the next gasping moment.