Felltree Marsh the hanged man

Chanterelle continued to wade in the muck with loud whooshing splashing sounds as she dragged her legs through the water and mud. The smell of the marsh filled her nose, and her head continued to swivel about, looking for anything of interest. Her head made another sweep--a flash of red and a set of eyes--and--

She brought her head whipping back to the eyes, and standing there in the distance, but not too distant, was a wolf. A red-masked young wolf with golden-yellow eyes. Chanterelle did not speak or move, frozen in place. Unable to think, she simply stared, her muscles tight, and waited.