Otatso Wetlands No Faces, Strange Places.

he needs some drama in his life! nice to meet u!

lestan did not know what to do for reverie. 
he wandered from the creek now, on the errand of following a lone stag. and yet the track led away. he found himself in a cold wetland, flat and open to the spread of snow.
lestan would have skirted the place had he not heard that rush of water, the undeniable sound of legs moving against current and grass. nostrils flared.
perhaps it was tybault.
that thought lined him with protective anger, and lestan moved at once to accost the stranger, tail lifting.
he only faltered a little bit to see he had been quite mistaken.