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

”Missy, if yer callin’ me old, we’re gonna have a problem.” 

Pepper wasn’t old. He was seasoned. Old wolves didn’t have a coat as luscious as his own, or a sense of smell as acute as his. 

”But sure. I could use a rest. To dry off if anything. Mud’s rubbin’ my pads raw.”

If not sharp thorns, it was something else. His legs were throbbing, too. Having to exert the extra effort to pull them out of the sludge with each step was much more exhausting than he’d anticipated. 

”Let’s find a place with clean water, yeah?”