Twisted Slough Why are you running

@Alarian — Finally a thread with the cutest of cuties.

The stench grows worse the deeper he roams, legs soaked with muck and water. Not an area many would traverse, let alone so early in Spring when the weather is still chilly. Nonetheless, the Bull finds himself at home. The smell hardly bothering the aged veteran; pleasant compared to a mix of decaying corpses, piss and shit.

With each heavy step, vines grab at his sides; greedy to entrap the massive wolf in their embrace. And yet, he powers through, using muscle and experience to bully his way. Ears locked on scratching and sounds of a struggle. Curiosity—and admittedly boredom—drawing him in. Finally, he finds the source. Funny how one so tiny had not noticed a gaping hole in the ground just enough to fit the boy snuggly. Vines making the trap all the more dangerous. The Bull approaches, halting on the slick edges with toes spread wide to keep his grip.

He must have been noticed, for the thrashing ceases. It all seems too familiar; a hare cornered by a fox.