Otatso Wetlands the time's come to play

He had thought himself an able tracker. To have lost his quarry was shameful, especially for a man of his age and skill; but it meant the safety of his family, so he would continue doggedly onward. This is the sentiment that led the man in to the hills, and through them to the swampy land he once called home. Njal was exhausted when he arrived on the fringes of the muddy land. His side screamed, and the burning of the skin where Kierkegaard had torn in to him was irritated by the travel.

Njal came to a slow halt - like his body had to stop more than it wanted to - and he slouched against a very old and muddied log. The wood creaked due to his weight, and in the next moment there was a rolling crackle - until the log popped and was splintered, leaving him to stumble awkwardly in the muck.

The little creature was hidden well enough, but was exposed as soon as the log splintered; Njal was busy adjusting himself and his footing, else he would've seen her.