Otatso Wetlands but I wouldn't want to live there.

Name buddy (nearly)!! Steph <3

The sound of cicadas buzzed shrilly in his ears, accompanied by the gentle chirp of crickets and the sound of wind sweeping across the boughs of the trees. It was a pleasant sound, joined by the pleasant scent of hanging ivy and moss-covered rocks, and the pleasant feel of cool air on his clammy skin.

It was most unfortunate that with all of the pleasantness surrounding him, Lake was not particularly enjoying any of it (probably because of all the unpleasantness partnered with it). Hours ago, peering into the outer edges of the marsh, he couldn't help the intrigue that drove him forth into the mysterious depths. Now in the midst of the labyrinth, however, he could not help but wish he had never come. It was growing dark and cold, and there seemed to be more mosquitoes than there was molecules in the god damn air.

To top it off, he had apparently chosen a rather creepy time to begin his wanderings. It had been day when he had started, but now deep in the eerie wetlands with the fog thickening around him, the sun had fallen to the horizon, casting an eerie deep violet glow between the towering black trees.

All in all, best thing he'd done all day.

Lake hopped up onto the decaying flesh of a long fallen tree trunk, peering into the darkness growing ever thicker around him. It was strange how a place so green and lush during the day could end up looking so cold and dead and foreboding in the night. A shiver traveled down his dark spine. Not one of fear of course, for Lake definitely wasn't afraid. Just freaked out, which was different. Completely different.

A swift wind catapulted through the trees, nearly knocking him down from his perch. Along with it renting through the air, a random shriek like a rabbit getting snatched by a fox. Or like a murderous demon fixing itself upon the soul of a giant bear so that it could fulfill its dark desire to feast upon the blood and flesh of the forest dwellers until dawn's first light. Deciding it was probably the latter, Lake hopped down with a splash into the mucky waters and continued on his way.

She would depart this part of the world tonight, heading toward Mountain ranges of afar. This place held nothing more for her. This area was certainly the coolest of them; the mud was nice in the day, and kept her content. But she could endure the swamplands no more. When night had fallen, Tonravik pushed through murky waters. There was no light in the sky at this point but for the moon, and even that was obscured by the clouds moving in. Rain. After the heat this day had brought, she would not be bothered by it. Still, she hoped to be out of this place before the rain would begin to fall.

The sound of something moving into the water did little to alarm Tonravik, initially. It was as she continued to wade in that direction that she imagined it could be a bear, or perhaps a cougar. And so she lets out a low growl while pausing her movement, annoyed that she had been deterred at all. There was little to smell, being surrounded by water. No help at all.

A sound on the air made him pause not long after he had begun. He froze, knee (wolves have knees?) deep in the water, his ears perked and swivelling back and forth upon his head, eyes darting across the terrain while his head remained still. Something had growled nearby. It was faint, so he was probably a safe distance away. Still, a random growl could mean only one thing--his seemingly insane possessed demon bear theory was every so slightly more probable.

For such a large, strong wolf, Lake did have the tendency to be a bit of a baby about the unknown. Deciding it was safe to move again, he ducked his head down low and began to walk silently(ish) and steadily(ish) through the murk. He kept his ears pinned forward, desperate to pick up on the tiniest of sounds that would alert him to the beast's whereabouts. Little did he realize while attempting to settle his wildly throbbing heart, he was actually headed directly towards his alleged foe.

Stillness, for an instant. The world was so very serene except for the sounds nature brought them, but even that seemed to cease... and then she hears it move again. Tonravik does not move, but remains still, her eyes looking for what she would not find. In time, the water lapping at her own knees seems to rise with the nearness of the other, licking higher. The sound is louder, too; it sounds large, but she cannot be certain. And so her rumble transforms into an angry snarl. I bite, the emission promised. The sound does not die.

She does not move, however; her perked ears are what will tell her if the other challenges her, decides to attack her, and her movement would compromise her ability to hear. Until the other came into her line of sight—soon, she knew—all she had were her ears, and the muddy-eyed wolf was quite reliant on that sense in these moments. Muzzle wrinkled and fangs exposed, Tonravik prepared, a poised snake prepared to strike.

Lake froze in his tracks again as the rumble turned into a near roar. He squinted his eyes, but failed to be able to tell tree from rock from cannibal in the inky darkness. His nostrils worked furiously, but could detect little more than the scent of earth, green and rot. There was something faint, like animal, but this did little to ease his flailing heart.

Unwittingly, his lips began to peel slowly back from his own teeth as he growled back to the night his own warning. Instinct was gripping him, and instinct told him to be prepared to survive. If it came to fighting for his survival, then that's exactly what he would do. It's not like he hadn't done it before, after all.

Lake began to creep forward again, this time veering a path towards the right although he still wasn't certain where the beast was in relation to him. Now moving again, he felt better and stilled the growl in his chest and put on a more calm, yet alert face. Reason had chimed in, and reason wanted to remind his instinct that there was no such thing as demons, and so there was no reason for him to be so worked up. It was probably the wind, or some sort of crazy loud bullfrog.

But how would a bullfrog get so crazy loud?

Unless.

It was possessed by a demon.

Reason, you need to work on being more assertive... Lake thought to himself with a whine, just as he rounded a clump of trees and stepped unwittingly right into the "possessed bullfrog/bear thing's" line of sight.