Felltree Marsh Don't Be a Stick in The Mud!

”Yep.” the large wolf said in reply. ”Done with swamps. Done with mud. And done with these fuckin’ mosquitos.” 

Those he hadn’t gotten used to. Everything else, whatever. But constantly flicking his ears, itchiness inside of his ears, around his underbelly, on his face—that shit was annoying. Luckily they weren’t too good at getting through his coat. But on the thinner areas, they had no problem. 

He supposed he was luckier than her, though. His coat allowed for dirt to blend. Hers did not. At all. She looked like an entirely different wolf. 

”Got any crazy stories from when you were a pup?” 

He was desperate to pass time.