Frogspawn Swamp in the quiet of the night

Description: Certainly the noisiest locale in the hinterlands, Frogspawn Marsh is named for the hundreds of frogs that congregate to spawn among the innumerable reeds and cattails. When summer arrives, the bog veritably crawls with the number of tadpoles that hatch into it and many a tadpole are crushed by unwary feet. Under the weight of winter snow, the bog freezes and resembles a flat, open field.

 

The swamp was an unexpected discovery—but as disgusting, noisy, and active as it was, Vasa was intrigued nevertheless. As of late, the rain had been unrelenting, and with this knowledge, she traveled somewhat carefully. Although she tended to be careless, there we some rare moments in which she moved with caution.  

It was forenoon as Vasa plowed through the calf-height mud, and rain fell from overhead. The frogs were active today, chattering much louder than anything else that she had ever heard. In an attempt to quiet their conversations, Vasa pinned her ears to her head; any other noises were drowned out by all the noise. 

Vasa suddenly stopped in-mid step, as she felt some squirming underfoot. The sensation was unexpected, and she nearly jumped out of her skin as she screamed in surprise. 

Weejay had always wanted to come here, but it was a bit out of her normal comfort zone. As of late, though, Weejay had been able to smell something unusual on the breeze; it was floral with a hit of astringency, and Weejay knew it was a plant she had to investigate.

She made her way uneasily through the marshland, nearly jumping out of her skin herself when a scream rent the air. In the aftermath the incessant chorus of frogs had ceased; Weejay nervously fussed, casting her gaze around for the source of the scream with a nervous call in return: "are you alright?"

"I think so!" Vasa replied unsteadily, not recognizing both the scream and voice that called out to her. "There are some fuckin' creepy crawlies here—nearly scared me half to death!" She lifted a paw, and inspected to see if she could spot the perpetrator—she had no luck. 

When her examination proved fruitless, Vasa searched her surroundings to find the stranger who had called out to her. Through the rain, she could see a figure in the distance, and she presumed that the voice belonged to the smaller silhouette. "Are you okay?" Vasa asked, recalling hearing another scream.

Once Vasa came into view Weejay forgot about foraging for new plants; this stranger seemed alright, but the constant ruckus of the frogs, and the general sliminess of the area, had Weejay on edge.

I'm okay, Weejay answered dutifully, shifting from one sodden foot to the next. She didn't like how much give the ground had, and when she stood for too long she could feel herself sinking. Can we get out of here? I don't like it. Weejay piped up, a nervous edge to her quiet voice.