Fishblight Mire Reptile

EBONY, it been TOO DAMN LONG

Down Nails sank into the mire, deeper still until the ugly murk kissed the crest of his hunger-hollowed chest. Across the blighted surface, he slithered like a snake. Closing his eyes and breathing deep, he gladly welcomed the pungent scent of the bog. All things had their purpose -- and so too did this. Here his trail would end. Here his trail would die. In a way, it felt as if he were shedding his uncomfortable mask and being made new.

Reborn unto the swamp. A leach in his natural habitat.

He'd hardly noticed the stranger's approach. His voice cut through the silence and Nails stopped. They Eyjolfur's eyes opened into reptiallian slits as he regarded him with an air of cautious scrutinay. He didn't recognize him as one of her's. He didn't recognize him at all. He was certainly an ugly fucker, he thought, catching a glimpse at his empty eye socket and torn ear.

Nails chuckled to himself. "Maybe," he mused. He was jovial; good natured. "Depends on who you ask." Lips pulled back revealing a roguish grin. "Certainly been called worse things," he went on before submerging himself completely in the murk to fully mask his scent.

When he emerged he was covered from toe to tip as mud sloughed off of his body.