Black Morass stirring

She wandered south from the meadow by the ocean, skirting the edges of the bordering mountains as she had only just gotten rid of the musty, rocky scent from her jaunt in the ranges before. Pukei had decided she was a wolf meant for the lowlands, amongst berries and herbs and plants – and her travels took her to a wetland that smelt just of that. The darkness of the area was off-putting, but the tantalising scent was enough to draw her in. The loamy soil was soft underfoot, and it released each of her feet with an amusing squelch sound with each paw-step.

Eventually, the girl made her way to higher ground where the earth wasn't so swampy. She figured it would give her a vantage point so she could figure out just where she was exactly, only it seemed she wasn't alone. A ghost-like figure stood against the darkness, catching Pukei's eye.

She pauses, studying the lean stranger with a slight tilt of her head as she drinks from the stream.