Cricket Creek Bog you'll get it in the next life,

Her wide circle freed him from his immediate attention.

His first focus was this pool, these waters, the creatures that might be feasted within it. He thought he heard it. That croak that signaled a tiny meal was within his reach.

Lower, lower, lower.

The soft hairs of his underside became brushed by bogwater and placed its scent upon him. He was prepared to launch and to feel something between his teeth. Only in that moment he finally noticed that smudge of pale against the land. She was not so near as to heed any kind of immediate greeting that he was inadequately capable of giving.

But she was here.

His nostrils flared softly as he tested the air for more than just frogs.