Fishblight Mire Shatter myself, I don't care

She was a little thing, small enough that she’d have to run around in a shower to get wet. Mustang picked his way closer to hear her more clearly, still keepin’ respectable space between them. Like his mama always said, gotta save room for the good lord. He flashed a sheepish grin at the posed question, tipping his ears back in abashed embarrassment that he truly didn’t know how to get out.

Can’t...quite say I do, miss. I came’n here to escape the heat, but it seems I traded the devil for the witch in this situation. He leaned on the very edges of his toes, peering at the young woman in the mud and muck.

I hate to ask’n this of ya ma’am, but uh...you alright? Can ya..get out?