Witch's Marsh Don't want to run aground, your shores are safely found.

Evien managed to clamber out of the water, soaked to the skin, and stared momentarily at the cattails floating useless on what looked to be solid ground. He shook his fur out, irritation building in his chest, and bristled defensively. Fortunately, no one was around to see-

A loud slam and a shout of FUCK, that normally would've come from Evien himself, cut off his train of thought. 

There was another wolf, splayed out in the mud a few meters off, facing away from Evien. "Right??" he demanded, stomping a paw in frustration and wrinkling his muzzle. "Fuck this fucking swamp. I swear to god, I've never seen another place where you had to be so careful where you walked. It's not even fair." 

He took a couple steps toward the fallen wolf, tipping his head to the side. "You're not hurt, are you? Because I've got nothing to treat you with here, so if you twisted a paw or something, you're shit outta luck." And he was probably going to die of hypothermia. This was just fantastic.