Felltree Marsh Hell is truth, seen too late.

Sunset.
All Welcome.

The bear was gone. The taste of its blood in his teeth had faded, but the blood crusted his face and left him looking ragged and wartorn despite a distinct lack of damage to himself. Everything was superficial; the blood down his front, the limp in his gait, the pounding ache in his head.

He'd stopped to rest somewhere and rested for a full day before waking to the dizziness and confusion of a concussion. That bear had packed a punch — thankfully Revui knew how to counter the pain of it, and rose in the greylight of sunset to seek out whitebark, as he'd been taught. The marsh was still. Creatures buzzed, frogs croaked, and the discomfort of soggy extremeties brought Revui to a stand-still. He swaggered and stopped when one of his heavy steps sank in to the slough water and his whole body tilted in to the marsh, to which he scrambled for stability, only to go plunging in to the slimey depths.

As he surfaced moments later, gasping like a gator and slick with sour brown water all over his body, he grunted and lifted himself free. The soil squelched and sucked around him, blurring his grey coat with streaks of green-brown and umber. This was not how he wanted to start his day.