Frogspawn Swamp devil his due

Several days after encountering the Moonspear pack and now knowing what she did, she had begun to steer her travels off the range that peak occupied and onto different places. Vaguely northward seemed advantageous enough, with the distant coastline in mind too, so the spry scout went where the road took her.

She prowled on, laying low and traveling a bit faster than her moseying wander of the most recent few weeks--which in truth, she liked, despite the leanness her condition afforded her, exaggerated by upping her pace day after day. Eventually the scenery opened and she was able to head westward again without mountains blocking her way. Eager to make use of it, she went that way--past a lake, then south again tracing a waterway.

When she slowed up, dusk was beginning to creep and it was when hunger bothered her next as well. She was heading for the swamp, lured forward by all the curious frogsong. Such high humidity and impending rain had them especially pleased. She jogged deeper into the swamps edges, eyes peeled for some good eats, or otherwise interest as the terrain shifted around her.