Felltree Marsh Of this philosophy

he heard the wolf shift behind him—oh god no—and picked up his pace a bit. or at least, that was the attempt that he was making in his backtracking path. there was probably an easier way to go about it rather than scrambling back over slick logs and dipping back into wet pockets of marsh water… like… he didn’t know, maybe going around.
but then again he had been trying to avoid drawing attention while he scavenged and wandered about. especially after the grotto incident that he did not care to entirely repeat a second time. this wolf was probably more capable and clever than his last match and needless to say, lakhos was not keen on being catfished.
so he fell over the next log, disappearing out of sight to the world.
in an undignified heap, he stayed there, lying between a rock and a hard place and seeming like a prime steak dinner on a platter. or maybe a skinny hot dog that had fallen off the tin foil to fall through the blackened bars of a charcoal grill and wasn’t salvageable.
with a hind leg was arched over his head and the other three limbs going whatever direction felt comfortable, he sincerely doubted that he would seem boring enough to avoid further investigation. wolves were curious things. he was part wolf and incidentally, was also curious. but not that curious. he had learned it wise to avoid larger predators for a reason and nine-tenths of that was because of his mouth.
and therefore today, he was quiet.
even if he was a failure at hiding and escaping.