Fishblight Mire Shatter myself, I don't care

She tried to force down the sense of rising anxiety in her chest. Tried to slow the increasing beat of her heart. No matter which way she looked, she just couldn't get her bearings. It all seemed the same in every which direction. Like a nervous doe, she backed up uncertainly. 

Her nose, so accustomed to the rich, soothing scent of herbs and flowers, tickled and burned. So much so that the stench of rotting flesh finally prompted a mighty sneeze out of her. She staggered slightly with the force, golden blonde limbs buckling as she sought purchase against the muck. 

The mud and water may have offered a softer landing, but now she was stuck a few inches deep in the too warm, gritty earth. Fate would have it that in her moment of embarrassment, a chipper voice called to her. A delicately shaped head snapped up perhaps a little too quickly, soft eyes of citrine and sapphire weary. The sight of another, lone male wolf made her think back of the instance with the trespasser at Rivenwood. But...that was then, and on claimed grounds. Despite the memory, Malila would never be the type to judge quickly, if at all. While looking shy and more than a little lost, she finally spoke up in a voice that was as delicate as her looks. "H-hi... Hey uhm, you...wouldn't happen to know a way outta here, would ya?"