Black Morass sakoku

The woman continued mulling about in the mud. Crowfeather shuffled awkwardly on his paws. His gaze darted from the slick frog that had appeared on his left and the she wolf who seemed to have found something in the grime. 

The pop of bone releasing from its sunken scabbard carried Crowfeather's back to her. He did not look away when the stranger recoiled at her own discovery. The dark boy gaped at her. 

He had seen this in a dream months before. The bone, the murky morass, the sound of frogs. It had been silly. He had paid it no mind. 

Are you alright? Crowfeather called, a bit louder than before.