Tuktu Hinterlands My Immortal

There was a darkling moving about the northern swamps lining the hinterland. She was thin and bedraggled, with fur clumped by mud or salt, and a half-eaten frog suspended in the air by her teeth.

She throws the long legs aloft, catching them, swallowing thickly to force it down. The woman is licking pond scum from her lips when she spots the pale figure of someone else - the girl, roaming.

Ay, this is my fishin' spot. Find yer own. Mag called out, then hesitated to let out a flagrant burp.