Cricket Creek Bog Twice as Nice

Well.

This place was certainly different. 

Caught in the middle of an unknown little stretch of territory not too far from the Copse. A wetland. A far cry from anything of the likes she had seen back in her native homeland. The great pools of water stretched in all directions, broken up only by sporadic patches of solid ground.

Despite the season, the occasional chirp of crickets still rung, breaking the silence. Ignoring the dampness of her paws, Nyssa tried to immerse herself in the scenery. She had stepped away to explore. To enjoy the land.

And that's just what she would do. If she was lucky, maybe she would happen upon some suitable bedding material for Meerkat, who was expecting.

with his muzzle still stinging from the woman's teeth at his muzzle from his mis-adventure in the hollow, poet steps with more caution. it had been a few days now, but the bite marks act as a curse to remind him ... and it's effective.

poet pauses, scenting at the air. there's a scent but it's not one of persistent presence.

confident that he was not repeating mistakes he moves thru the territory, not aiming to cross paths with the owner of the freshest scent but not avoiding her, either.

shlap

shlap

shalp

the madwoman slapped her paws through the bogwater.

her eyes were rooted; little waking creatures scattered upon her approach. she imagined herself a mighty jotunn razing their muck-and-mud homesteads.

shlap

shlap

shlap

she went on through the bog.

can be a cameo! :D