Honeyed Pasture i've got a good feeling; it doesn't happen very often

Marcus was sure to stay a little ways back, keeping the tip of his snout adjacent with Wren's broad shoulders. Occasionally he would glace over at her and smile to himself, watching her very seriously consider their next move. He was more of a free spirit in his wanderings, so appreciated this calculated nature in the doe-eyed woman.

The dew now clung heavily to his stocks, eliciting an uncomfortable grumble from the russet man. While he didn't mind being submerged in a lake or a river, there was something about being covered in dew. It made his skin crawl. Luckily for his partner, the icky feeling of wet stockings took his attention away from her nerves. He was only brought back by Wren's question. Ah yes, the task at paw.

"Go big or go home." It was a suggestion but one with a devious inflection to it.