Felltree Marsh But the prince of any failing empire knows

<3 !!!

there is an immediate dislike for the marsh. it occurs even before badlands gets too far into the territory; but by the time the soft mosses give way to slick and putrid mud, he is already too far for turning around and going around to make sense. so, with a low grumble in his throat, badlands soldiers thru.

his steps aren't quiet. each lift of his paws makes a small, sucking squelch that has him cringing; teeth gritting against each other. his paws sink down to his ankles in muck with each step.

he hates it, hates this place so much —

he gives pause, the lack of movement causing him to sink a bit further than ankles into the muck as the sight of another draws his attention. an audible ick, before offering a low chuff to of greeting ... just in case his steps and audible displeasure of the marsh were not enough to garner the stranger's attention in the first place.