Black Morass sakoku

there were no more voices.
satsu thought the presence remained, but she was too unnerved to look around. she did not want to invite the scrutiny of spirits or earn herself a curse.

perhaps it was the tainted water that caused her such paranoia. she pulled some larger pieces of debris from the mud: a length of orange arbutus, a patch of soggy green-brown litter that looked almost like a wide-based raspberry leaf, and then a stick that took some pulling to pry free of the mud.

the sucking sound gave way when out it popped, dripping and browned but otherwise oddly clean. the surface was pock-marked. it only took a few seconds before satsu dropped it in horror — it was not a stick at all but a long bone with a rounded end, meant for a socket.

repulsed, she rears back and hastens to her feet again, tripping over the arbutus branch beside herself.