Witch's Marsh And when I miss, come and kiss me

The white wolf had left the much flatter Great Bear Wilderness and backtracked to the Valley beyond the mountains. He had done so with no real purpose. As with most things in Taikon's life, he searched for direction both figuratively and literally, hunting not for a place to settle but for a reason to keep going.
He had a minor desire to get a better lay of the land. Yesterday, he'd come through the lake and made a meal of a large muskrat. Today, he sought new territory to map in his mind. That desire was unfortunately met with a great big mess.
It didn't take long for Taikon to realize that coming here had been a mistake. The warm weather bred thousands of pesky bugs, creatures that quickly swarmed about him, attracted to his heavy breathing amid the croaking amphibians. He trudged through the muddy waters, now seeking only to leave its nastiness, when he came upon a wolf who had slipped on the slimy marshbed. Taikon stared through the grimy air, trying in vain to get a look at the other. He moved, slowly and annoyingly and sloppily, through the marsh, until finally he could see her properly. This sucks, he said simply, hoping to find joy in commiseration.