Otatso Wetlands Moonjock

Malachi calmed himself after the initial shock of stumbling across the wandering woman wore off and waited for her to make the first approach, acutely aware he could be trespassing on her territory. He relaxed when she met him with a good-natured quip, yet the boy couldn't stop a faint frown from crossing his lips. Her words hadn't hurt him, but he now felt every leaf and vine with a growing awareness that made him itch to shake them off. Knowing that doing so would only transfer his burden to the clean-furred stranger, Malachi resigned to duck his head so he could paw off what plant life littered his face. After some trying he managed to hook a long tendril that wound around his ear and flick it to the ground just as the woman spoke again.

"Oh, I wasn't lost." He lifted his head, cheek fur now messy and still quite spotted with algae, and let his frown turn into a careful smile. In truth, he never really knew where he was these days, and while he didn't know which way to go while in the marsh, he'd never felt lost under its thick cover of leaves. He still had no explanation for having been in the swamp land at such a strange hour, but he wrote that off by assuring himself he'd merely slept longer than he'd thought when he had 'briefly' dozed off before entering the waters. Time was difficult to tell when one couldn't see the sky.

"And you - are you lost?" From her casual approach he concluded she did not live in these lands, or at least in this swamp, and her scent spoke nothing of the damp waters he had left behind. She instead carried the cool air of something more familiar to his nose - mountains and earth, not the mud of the marsh. He returned her inquiring look with a glance as curious as her own. After all, he wasn't the only one journeying at this strange hour.