Otatso Wetlands 2 "if only the day would linger."

The kerchief she thought she held was pulled from her grasp. The momentum of the shifting body made her teeter all over again. First forward, stooping, and then backwards as she tried to right herself. A slap of her tail kept her from falling over but only barely. Her arms wheeled out on either side until finally, Grandmother found a solid base with her bottom planted in the mud.

She blinked her eyes again. Balling a fist, she rubbed the bits of mud away. The drapery she had used had been a sheet of coarse fur - not that she knew this - but it was gone now. Before her eyes a white shape fuzzed in to being, but it was recoiling from her, then rolling in the mud.

Grandmother could not believe what she was seeing. Mostly because she could barely see it to begin with - her peepers were decidedly not great for distance - and with the patchwork of mud upon its body, the dog did not look so much like a dog anymore.

《Whozzat?》

She snorts, and a fat wad of mud shoots cleanly from one of her clogged nostrils. As she sucks in a fresh breath of air she puffs up a bit, but does not rival the size of the not-dog.

《Can you at least point me at a bit'o water? Dontcha have any heart, creature!》

But, Grandmother knows better than to wait for help. Stand yourself up by your tail-stripes, as her mother used to say, and all that. She waves him off and turns to find her own way, except that her tail doesn't move much, and that trips her up good.

Down she goes, again.