Witch's Marsh mayday, mayday, mayday

it was hard to remain too miserable, while pyro was besides her having his best day ever; she eyed him out of the corner of her eyes and wasn't convinced sunshine wasn't coming out of his dark fur and behind, but if she felt sassy enough to think it, she certainly didn't say it.

raising a wrist above the slog and pulling herself out of the algae-riddled swap, coelho gave a shake in time to have a splash of water sunder her. flattening her ears to keep the rivulets out of her ears, she fired back: "oh, nothing - just -- i hope this trip isn't all like this -- swamp, water, more swamp -- ugh! we're not frogs, yannow? hard to think anything lives in this gross pool." and then, raising her head sharply she playfully lodged an accusation his way: "hey, maybe we found exactly where you belong.." she grinned, and slapped the water in his direction with a loud smack.