Stinky, muddy, and objectively unappealing- that was Fishblight Mire. But it was here Toad found himself smiling a rare little smile, humming as he waded through brownish muck. Pale legs were coated in mud up to here, face splattered with droplets, and yet he had no shame. Rather than moping, he'd spent his time here enjoying the peace and quiet and catching a couple (probably diseased) fish.
That's why his smile wavers when he can see the end of the wetlands up ahead- a transition to soft grass and pale snow. He'd much prefer to stay in the stink and the mud and the rot- but the sun is setting, and he's not stupid. There was no good place to curl up for the night anywhere in all this nastiness, and so begrudgingly, he continues onward towards the plains, no longer carrying such a skip in his step.
That's why his smile wavers when he can see the end of the wetlands up ahead- a transition to soft grass and pale snow. He'd much prefer to stay in the stink and the mud and the rot- but the sun is setting, and he's not stupid. There was no good place to curl up for the night anywhere in all this nastiness, and so begrudgingly, he continues onward towards the plains, no longer carrying such a skip in his step.
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