Otatso Wetlands fangs of nyx

<style type="text/css">.ame {margin:auto; width:530px; text-align:justify;font-size:11px;} .ame q {color:#7a2638; font-family:georgia;font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:1.3px;} .ame p {margin:0px;text-indent:30px;}</style>

She delicately picked her way through the dense foliage, breathing deep the scents of all things and following any semblance of a path she could find. Now and then, strange gnarls of roots and plants prompted her to stop for further investigation, which usually included an up-close sniff and perhaps a lick, but none were deemed worthy enough of collection. In response, she felt a subtle tingle on her tongue after lingering long enough to check out a strange plant with curious little lives. It had smelled bitter, too, but she had only passed over it quickly. Evidently, it had been enough to stick with her.

Not long after, as she licked at her teeth to chase away the taste, she heard a bark. This flicked her ears to attention and she raised her head to view a silvered male not far ahead with a bloodied rabbit in his possession. She approached with a hawkish stare keenly zeroed in on him. Greetings, stranger, she chuffed, and found herself pleased to find he did not smell of the Creek. Instead, something familiar. This would potentially make this easier, but all the same, until she knew of his disposition, she was just wary enough. Not many lurked the depths of the wetlands.