Otatso Wetlands sandhill

He blended in with the cranes, which paid him no mind as he sifted through the muddy waters with his sensitive whiskers. Long legs kept only the wispiest fur of his belly and chest dry, but as he lifted his head from the water, it beaded brown and brackish down his throat.

Leathery nostrils flared as he took in the scents around him. There were wolves nearby; he was wary of them, but not even a wolf could begrudge him his current place.

His head dipped once more, long neck curving like those of the birds around him as he fished once more through the mud. Something slippery brushed his whiskers, and with a lightning-quick snap, he closed his teeth around a catfish that came out of the water already thrashing.

His neck arced as he tossed the catfish away from him. It landed still flopping madly in the grass.