Otatso Wetlands bottom of the river (p - marek)

He was in fact the new kid on the block to put it lightly. Eventually he'd have the place as familiar as the back of his... thought process paused for a glance down: dirty paw. It still looked relatively familiar, anyway. Swamp 1, Marek 0. He said with a grin. Although he didn't feel like he'd actually lost, he didn't want his good humor to go to waste. Still getting my bearings, my full name is Marek Serafin. He introduced a little more properly this time, taking a few steps closer and dipping his head respectfully.

Truth be told, Marek lived to experience life. If that meant covering himself in swamp, sand, snow, so be it. He hoped to eventually redeem himself for the lessons he had been taught and eventually rejected. There was something sacred about savoring every sense that life had to deliver.

I'm not imposing on any pack grounds, am I? He questioned. Marek wouldn't have thought a pack would claim wetlands quite like this, but it would have been easy to miss a marker and he wouldn't want to be a total jackass by not showing more than a neutral, I'm not going to kill you, display of respect.