Stone Circle baby, I'm dying for another taste

Murdock woke with an indignant squawk as Poppy rammed into his side. It wasn't painful, but she was wet and cold, and he'd been having a nice dream. "The hell is your problem?" he grumbled, trying to make room for her while she bumbled around, skinny legs going in every direction. Eventually, he got sick of it and pulled her down beside him, beginning at once to pull all the twigs from her fur.

"An adventure?" he asked skeptically, a little worried about how strange she was acting. "Where? A swamp?" She was dirty as hell - they'd probably both smell like wet dog in the morning, which was not his favorite thing to smell like. "You look like a bog," he added, not quite able to help but take a dig at her.